
LIBR^Y OF CONGRESS. 



Slielf^Iir4r_g\3}'t 

UNITED STATES OF AMEEIOA. 


r.i 




- V w- ■. 









>*4 

'JI.I 


i 


-f# 


i. 






T ^ 


•4 


:\ 

« 


.**, ?< 


-•?■ / 


'•. >r- 



, • s;-'. ••'"'■ 

^ ' • • ' <*' •u^*'' • . /• ^ }^* ' ' ■ • 

W • . M* • •■4 * Jl^ 

•V> / . >.-> V ‘ '• 

„ # M i' M- '■- /'>• • .V • *•• * 

'^ '' * ^ * 4 . 

V ' S’ _ • I S7 *»»■• ♦. • n * 

vV' '''-'.'.o’ 


V ' 

/ • *» 


*t . 


I 




V* 


.j» ^ \ ' li - » i 

•Jv 

- -^ f- 1 ■ . ft»>f. 

^ ^ \ m 


«f 






» 

V 




.- - 'm 


f * 


♦•7 


I- -4^^ ■ • 


^ 'p 


*«. 



^4 


. . Z-* 




' Ji;: ' 


» 

#1 


4 t 


-'■> 






•S' 4 


f 


• M . « 


' '>; • 


•''( 


'•r 






I 


V 

^ Li 


•T'r 





Ti. 



1 '4 


'<■ v 


p»« J 




• ■'• ■ ‘ ^ . ' ••"4lL 

-‘r ^ .'■> '■( ^ •■i ? 

^ \ VI.-4 V ^ 1 ► -• I ^ 

- • '"^.1 ' ■ ' ■ ' ■- " '■■' 

•; ^/JkWr. ' "iniiTrT ' 


• % 


I • *• * • « > . a f 

• - i. ^ 5i f *> iy ^ 

‘''■■^V;' - ■ 

^ ‘ '' v',- 

• ■fi-x 

r V- :^4*. - X '£\ 




4 I 








/(a: 


4 4 


-M * ’ ’• V ^ ^ \ ? 

• ’ ’ •* • • j i.'-*rr * /. .'T f % ' " ' , '•* - sJ:\f^ 

•/' -' v'^ ^ 

i--’ •■< • , '•■'•. y ■ <• ' . ' . ■' \i- ' iJsmSg^ t- •’ - .''..v. . '. . 

^ *‘- . . * -v’’ ■-* -“I. ' ' ' •' • . * '.'•9 '•';r4' -’^ ■ 

. .^;v*- - ■ ' .•'•?:■ ■. 


. ■ / .i ^•''* 






. . ■ ^ T/"' . 4 * '^7 ■.# >' ' ' .* . '• ••i ".■*^ *‘sdr^^ 

'V ' / -. ■' n\ ■ .i>.( ■•. ‘Vz'.. • 

B . , ; ' V\' '• . * ' - V/ • 


■ jti . 'y*rf. 
.' -.. : -’ <*«w' 






> ’ 4 




>r,*‘ 


- r'.^-'-y-: "t i-'i , - - V 

» . z v ■' ■ •■■■*’" ■ '* j ^ * 

. # * , j ,. • m.,, .1, ' I' 

; ' ■' ('-—?> ' ♦•• *•-' 

••.-«■ ! - I 


•I 





.1l 


( V ^,»’.. ■ 

5 


y 

4 


«J» 


- , M ■'. 


V, :v ; !-> ^ •■•--■ti ■:'. >/;. -'-V .„,.u 


v/ 


W 

/' 






■'..yC' 

PT Viv '-^ * ' ' 4 r‘* * 


i^i 




• f 




i 


I • 


* t. 




I* ^ 

K - 


w 







mmd 


' , : '4 ,Tt- • ’ • . • 


‘ i'. V v 
' V 


) \ 
r ♦ " • r 


I '« 


;v-ru ^ 


f ^ 


- NT **>*’< ' Vii 







• ^ X 

r 


(• 


% 


• 'V- 






*n.v> . 


« t 


A ' 




• • ' •' 

' v» 

» fft ^ I » 


J. 

,\.r^ y,- ■■. Ob ■ , 

•i'- ., ■ '■>. • ■ > 






b . n 




* 

I • 


4 < • 


• 9 




. • r . ^ 


.* ; 
•V . » • 


; •’ » 



. / • 


V * ' A 

/-S - • 

* . « .\‘ ' 




l-y 


• / t 

^ • ^ 

• • 4 


p.' -V 

• ■ 4 


y 


fc’ 


« « 

> 




S 


'.V 


1 > 


* V 


’. I 


'x', -V" zV'.’''?':^''^ ' - 

. %\ ‘ r 

t • • . 4 . ■ k 




/ 


\ • 

*: . y' 

' * ' ^4." 

\ ♦ 4 


/■' 


4- 




^ S 


' \ 


. j; 


* > 


4 « 


# ♦ 
« f 

t 


4 

1 


'/;, .-s' V'*- 


< I 


■ > r 

4 * ’ '• 


L -.■ 


■ i 

m 

rk • 


^ ; i 


T . 


:/ 


1 

» 

V* 


’’V 


•/ 

K 

•4 


i 

r*4. 




y* 


? - 


V? 






• .- 'I 


- ^ 


^ ■y-'N 


/• 


^4 4 


• ^ a ^ 


^4- » 




> ’l.. 


b * 


.r 


^ s 


*•' 4 ' '■ • ;, . •’• •' uA-i 

^ 't M 4 ^ - * »*i * \A % ^ 

V' '.vr. -.':5-t&2'yStftl 



■ ' :y ; 


■'ll 


i 








r 

4 


\ 






/ ' 




t 

'N 


, > • 
> _ 


% > 


< *V 


L 


I \ 


/ / 


» I 


i • 


» < 


. ^/ 


/ 


i • 


\ 


» • - r I ^ 


0 * 


/ \ 

' * .A * 




0 • 




•1 


' * /’ 




\ 


* 


i 


- V 


Iv. 


^ ' 


V' 


» f 

\ 



A DISPUTED 
IHHERITANGE 

BY AUTHOR OP 

“the original MR. JACOBS.” 


American Series, * No. 2, New York, 

SD Monthly, (ExTRJ^), May, 1888. F. J. IVERS & CO , Publishers. 

Entered at Post Office, Ni w York, as Second-class matter. 



STANDARD RECITATIONS BY BEST AOTHORS. 


A Choice Collection of* Beautiful Compositions. 

CAEEFULIiY COMPILED FOR 

S.chool, Lyceum, Parlor, and other Entertainments, 

By FRANCES P. SULLIVAN. 

CONTENTS OF NO. 1. 


PAGE 


Sheridan’s Ride. T. B Read 3 

Barbara Frietchie. J. G. Whittier. ... 4 
Hamlet’s Soliloquy on Death. Shaks- 

peare 4 

The Ship of State. Longfellow 6 

"War. E. B. Browning 6 

Cato on the Immortality of the Soul. 

Addison 6 

My Country. Anonymous 5 

Cardinal Wolsey’s Farewell to Power. 

Sliakspeare 4 

To My Mother. Forrester 6 

What makes a Hero. Henry Taylor. . 7 

America. Bryant 7 

The Felon. M. G. Lewis 7 

Ode to Fear. Collins 8 

Dorkins’ Night. Anonymous 8 

Warren’s Address. J Pierpont 9 

Return of the Dead. Proctor 9 

To a Skull. Anonymous 9 

The Pauper’s Death-Bed. Caroline B. 

Southey 10 

The Glove and the Lion. Leigh Hunt. 10 
Marco Bozzaris. J itz-Greene Halleck. 11 

The Last Man. Campbell 11 

Kearney at Seven Pines. E. C. Stead- 
man 12 

The Gambler’s Wife. Coates 13 

The Battle of Fontenoy. Thomas 

Davis 14 

Over the River. Nancy A. M. Priest. . 15 

Life. Henry King 15 

Bivouac of the Dead. Theodore 

O’Hara 15 

When the Tide Goes Out. Anony- 
mous 10 

The I Trunkard’s Dream. C. W. Deni- 
son 16 

Mobody’s Child. Philo H. Child 17 

One in Blue and One in Gray. Wm. 

Ward 17 

Man was made to Mourn. Robert 

Burns 18 

The Collier’s Dying Child. Farmer. . 19 
Where Man Should Die. Anonymous. 19 
Red Riding Hood. J. G. Whittier ... 20 
The Arab’s Farewell to his Steed. 

Mrs. Norton 20 

The Futility of Fame. H. K. White. . 21 
Somebody’s Darling. “ War Lyrics of 
the South ” 21 


PAGE 


Yearning. J. Brennan 22 

Roll-Call. N. P. Shephert 22 

When tbe Lamp is Shattered. Percy 

Bysshe Shelley 23 

Ring out Wild Bells. Tennyson 23 

The Downfall of Poland. Campbell . 23 
Elegy Written in a Country Church- 

Yard. Gray 24 

The Weaver 26 

The Memory of the Dead. Anony- 
mous. 26 

The Reconciliation. John Banim. ... 26 
The Bells of Shandon. Father Prout . 27 

Look Aloft. J. Lawrence 27 

Curfew must not Ring To-Night. 

Anonymous 28 

Persevere. J. Brougham 29 

The Baron’s Last Banquet. A. G. 

Greene 29 

The Inquiry. Charles Mackay 30 

The Relief of Lucknow. Robt. Lowell. 31 

The Water-Mill. D. G. Mitchell 31 

Dying Californian 32 

Bingen on the Rhine. Mrs. Norton.. 33 

Beautiful Snow 34 

The Charge of the Light Brigade. 

Tennyson .. 35 

The Dying Soldier 36 

Jim Bludso. John Hay 36 

Somebody’s Mother 36 

I’d offer 'Thee this Hand of Mine 36 

The Bridge 37 

The Polish Boy. Ann S. Stephens. . . . 37 
Why should tiie Spirit of Mortals be 

Proud 33 

Betsy Destroys the Paper. D. R. 

Locke 39 

There’s None like a Mother if ever so 

Poor 41 

The Song of the Sword. Anonymous. 42 
The Mistletoe Bough. Anonymous . 4^2 

The Old Arm Chair 43 

The Village Blacksmith 43 

Which Shall it be ? Anonymous 43 

The Death of the Warrior King. Chas. 

Swan 44 

Found Dead. Albert Leighton 44 

Little Will. Anonymous 46 

In School Days. J. G. Whittier 47 

Unknown Dead. L. D. M. . 47 

Bernardo del Carpio. Mrs. Hemans.. 48 


Price rents by Mail. 1 and 2 Cent Stamps taken. 

Address, M. J. IVERS Sc CO., 

S6 Nassau Street, N, Y, City, 


A3IERICAN SERIES. 


A Disputed Inheritance. 


A THRILLING STORY OF LOVE, 
MYSTERY, AND INTRIGUE. 


By the Author of “The Original Mr. Jacobs. 




V 








NEW YORK: 

M. J. IVERS & CO., P'UBLISHERS, 

86 Nassau Street. 



Copyright 1888, by M. J. IVERS & CO. 




« 


ARGYLE PRESS, 

Printing and Bookbinding, 

24 &. 26 WO®STER 6T., N. Y- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER I. 

La Geraldine was not a castle, for it had 
neither battlements nor turrets ; it could not be 
called a cottage nor yet a farm-house, but was 
simply a large country house built by a rich drug- 
gist who loved comfort and despised architecture. 

At the end of the park ran a river and this 
stream, though not a navigable one, was quite 
deep enough to drown in, as the druggist found to 
his cost A Turkish proverb says : When the 
house is finished, death enters,'^ and the builder of 
La Geraldine, while strolling about his domain 
after a good dinner, fell into the river, and next 
day was fished out of it, dead. His heirs, not 
caring for country life, tried to sell the estate, but 
did not find a purchaser until thirty years had 


4 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


elapsed. After the war of 1870 Madame Dandria 
bought it at half its value from the druggist’s last 
descendant and made it her summer home. 

She was a widow with an income which was 
thought large in the country, but was not much in 
Paris, as she had two young daughters, and a son 
who had just finished his term as volunteer and 
began the study of law. 

These young people had, indeed, an old bachelor 
uncle — their father’s brother — who was rich, but 
he had peculiar notions on the subject of inheri- 
tance, maintaining that a man had a right to leave 
his money as he chose, and even spend it all him- 
self if it suited him to do so. But he was an 
affectionate uncle and brother-in-law, and being 
fond of society contrived to wake up the sleepy 
little town of Arcy, which was about seven miles 
from La Geraldine. He was in the habit of pay- 
ing his brother’s family a visit during the game 
season. 

One evening in November Uncle Armand and 
Madame Dandria sat in the cheerful parlor to- 
gether, the young ladies having gone upstairs to 
dress and their brother to town, ostensibly for the 
purpose of reading law. It was a stormy night ; 
though there was no rain or snow as yet, the wind 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


5 


was howling wildly, the great trees in the park 
waving and rustling, and the leaves blowing about 
in the gale. - 

Winter reigned outside, but indoors it seemed 
to be summer still, for all was warm and bright 
and there were flowers everywhere. 

“ What a gale it is blowing,’’ said Uncle Armand, 
after a long silence ; “ I am afraid the young swells 
in town will hardly care to brave such weather, 
even for the sake of my fair nieces.” 

“ No, we shall have no visitors to-night,” replied 
Madame Dandria, “ but my girls can amuse them- 
selves very well without them — ^and so can you, I 
think.” 

“ Oh, some of them are entertaining enough,” 
said the uncle, “and I think Ernestine and Ger- 
maine enjoy their visits. Germaine does, I am 
certain — she is so fond of talking and laughing 
and dancing. It is time she married,” he added, 
suddenly. 

“She must wait until her elder sister is settled,” 
said the mother, quietly. 

“ Ernestine has more domestic, quiet tastes than 
her sister and a lovely character, but Germaine 
pleases every one, and at first sight.” 

“ Germaine should have a rich husband,” sighed 


6 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Madame Dandria, and her brother-in-law inquired, 
smilingly — 

‘‘ Do you think Ernestine would take a poor 
one?” 

“ Yes, if she loved him. She is not ambitious 
nor frivolous, but thoughtful.” 

“ I have heard of volcanoes covered with snow,” 
interrupted the uncle, and seeing a frown of dis- 
pleasure on his hearer’s brow he hastened to ex- 
claim — 

“ I beg pardon. 1 take back the ‘ volcano,’ since 
you object to the word. And, indeed, Queen, I 
appreciate my elder niece’s good qualities so fully 
that I think there is no one in the place good 
enough for her. Arthur du Pourmeval is good- 
looking and no fool, and the girls seem to like 
him, but he spends his whole income — 

“ He is his uncle’s only heir,” put in Madame 
Dandria, in a low tone. 

“An uncle’s money is what no one need make 
sure of,” said the rich bachelor, dryly ; “ let us talk 
of something else. Who is expected this evening ?” 

“Every one and no one. Dr. Sully may drop in, 
and perhaps our neighbors from across the river. 
Their nephew, M. du Pourmeval, has talked 
about their coming for a long time.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


7 


“You mean the Vignemals? It is not likely 
that they will venture out to-night. It is blowing 
a cyclone. Hark ! What was that ?” 

“ What do you mean ?” asked the lady. 

“ I heard a cry from the garden. It sounded 
like a call for help.” 

He hurried to the window, and his sister-in-law 
said, reproachfully : “ Do you mean to say that 

some one is being murdered on my grounds 

“An accident may have happened. Perhaps 
one of the servants has fallen into the river.” 

“ My servants do not ramble about at night.” 

“ I hear — nothing now.” 

“ Because there is nothing to hear.” 

“ Or, perhaps, because the person who called is 
dead.” 

“ Oh, Armand, you are intolerable ! You know 
how nervous I am ” 

She was interrupted by a burst of silvery 
laughter, as the door opened suddenly and two 
young girls came in, hand in hand. 

The sisters were not at all alike. 

The younger was a rosy blonde, with bright, 
black eyes, which sparkled with fun and mischief. 
The other was a pale brunette, with large, fine 
eyes and an air of thoughtfulness, though some- 


8 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


times a quick flash of emotion would be seen in 
her eyes which were of an unusual color, dark 
and soft, but neither blue nor brown. Uncle 
Armand called it purple. Just now there was an 
expression of indifference on Ernestine’s face, in 
spite of her sister’s gay chattering. 

'‘You seem to be very merry to-night, little 
girl,” said her uncle. 

“ I have to make fun for two,” answered Ger- 
maine, “ for sister won’t even smile, though I have 
told her no end of funny stories. She has made 
up her mind to be melancholy, and I am sure she 
has no reason for it. She is the belle wherever 
she goes, and this very week M. Arthur du Pour- 
meval, the leader of fashion in Arcy, has waltzed 
seven times with her, and only honored me with 
three little mazurkas.” 

“ Four, Germaine, I counted them,’’ said Ernes- 
tine, quietly, “and 3'Ou know very well that he 
dances with me only because he comes late and 
finds you engaged for the whole evening.” 

“Oh, I forgive him, but I wish he would come 
to-night and bring some of his friends with him. I 
have been sitting over my fancy-work for two 
days and feel the need of a change of exercise.” 

“ Let us have some music,” said the uncle. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


9 


“ there will be no visitors, for the wind is fierce 
enough to blow all the young swells to atoms." 

“ So it is,” cried Germaine, running to the win- 
dow, “and it is snowing, too. How lovely! I 
love snow ; it makes the trees look as if they were 
dressed for a ball, and they seem to be bowing to 
each other in the Lanciers. And then, when it 
freezes we can skate, and that is the best of all. 
The young gentlemen, though, are afraid of the 
cold. Bah 1 If I had a lover I should expect him 
to serenade me from the garden with the mercury 
at thirty below zero.” 

Uncle Armand laughed, but Madame Dandria 
said, reprovingly — 

“ Germaine, do not rattle on so. Look, your 
sister has begun embroidering ; why do you not 
help her?" 

“ Oh, I would rather play on the piano. I will 
try some quadrilles and imagine that I am dancing." 

She seated herself at the instrument, and a few 
minutes after a servant announced, “ Dr. Sully." 

The visitor was welcomed cordially. He was a 
man who had passed his sixtieth year, but was 
straight as a poplar and strong as an oak. In his 
youth he had been an army surgeon and was now 
practising in Arcy, where he was very popular. 


lO A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

being an intelligent, well-bred, and worthy man. 
At La Geraldine he was a great favorite and de- 
lighted in passing his evenings there, for, like Uncle 
Armand, the Doctor had never married. 

If I had known you were braving this storm, 
Doctor, I should have thought it was you who 
cried for help just now,” said the other gentleman. 

“ For help? Is any one hurt?” cried the Doc- 
tor. ‘‘ What has happened ?” 

“ Oh, be calm ; it is nothing. I am not certain 
about the cry ; my sister heard nothing.” 

“ I hardly think that any one was out to-night 
but myself. I left Arthur and the others consol- 
ing themselves with baccarat.” 

The monsters !” cried Germaine, to play 
baccarat when there are two poor girls out here 
who have not waltzed for forty-eight hours.” 

“ They have expensive horses, and dare not 
risk them,” said the Doctor. “ Young Pourm^val 
has just bought a fine span.” 

“Is this Pourm^val a rich man?” asked the 
uncle, carelessly, of the Doctor. 

“Rich? No. He has enough to live on, but 
if he lives at the rate he does now — ” 

“ Has he not a rich relative?” 

“Your neighbor, M. Vignemal, is his uncle. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. II 

but he has not much to leave. The fortune be- 
longs to Madame Vignemal, who was a rich 
widow when he married her. It is true that 
each has made a will in favor of the other, but 
as the gentleman is delicate, and the lady a mar- 
vel of good health, it is not likely that Pourm^val 
will inherit. She cannot bear the sight of him, 
and she is sure to outlive her husband. I am 
sorry for that,” continued the Doctor, “ for Ar- 
thur is a good fellow, and with even a small fort- 
une would be a desirable match.” 

He glanced quickly at Ernestine, and saw that 
she had not lost a word of what had been said, 
but she dropped her eyes without speaking, and 
went on with her work. 

Germaine was turning over the music-books 
and did not seem interested in the financial pros- 
pects of Arthur du Pourm^val. 

They are very peculiar people, these Vigne- 
mals,” said Madame Dandria, after a pause. “ I 
called on them some time ago, but could not see 
them, and, though they live so near, they have 
never returned my call.” 

‘^They never go anywhere,” said the Doctor, 
‘‘and for a most extraordinary reason. Madame 
is as jealous as a tiger. She married Vignemal 


12 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


for love, and, though that was a quarter of a cent- 
ury ago, she still sees him as she saw him then, 
and imagines that every other woman will think 
as she does. And so, though he is fifty-five and 
wears a wig, she considers it advisable to keep 
him in durance vile, and he submits. But I know 
from the husband, himself, that they are soon 
coming to call here, for he asked me what hour 
of the day was best.” 

“ I wish they would come to-night,” said Ger- 
maine. “ I should so like to see them, and, oh, 
dear, what fun I could have !” 

Her eyes sparkled mischievously, but at a look 
from her mother she turned round to the piano 
again, and began playing softly. 

You saucy child,” said her uncle. There 
must be enough ridiculous people in Arcy, with- 
out those two, to satisfy your love of fun.” 

“ They are only types, uncle, I want indi- 
viduals.” 

“The deuce you do!” said the uncle, and she 
rattled on — 

“You must confess that I am right. All the 
young men of Arcy talk and dress in exactly the 
same way. And the country people are just as 
bad.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 13 

'' Excepting, of course, M. Arthur du Pour, 
m^val ?” 

He is more of a Parisian, and would be inter- 
esting if he were not such a dandy.’' 

You prefer a Fra Diavolo, then?” 

Indeed I do !” 

‘‘Then I can supply you with one,” put in Dr. 
Sully. “ There is just such a personage living on 
your land.” 

“ Oh, tell me where!” she cried. 

“ He is sometimes in your woods, sometimes on 
your river. He lives on your game and your 
fish.” 

“ Is he young ?” 

“ Almost twenty, and very handsome.” 

“ Good, we will paint his portrait ! At least 
Ernestine will.” 

“ No, thank you,” said the elder sister. “ I do 
not care for savages.” 

“ Nor I,” said the uncle, “ but I should like to 
catch this poacher — ; What is the matter, Bap- 
tiste?” he asked as a servant entered the room 
hurriedly. 

“ There has been an accident, sir, on the river.” 

“ 0*h, I thought so. A drunken man, I sup- 
pose.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


14 

“ No, sir, but it seems that M. and Mme. 
Vigneraal were crossing in the ferry-boat and the 
rope broke — ” 

“ Good heavens !” cried the lady of La Geral- 
dine. ** They were coming here, and they are 
drowned.” 

“ Let us go and save them,” cried Germaine, 
jumping up. 

Roland says it is too late. Miss.” 

“ Who is Roland ?” 

“Roland Ferrer, the 3"Oung man I was speak- 
ing of,” said Dr. Sully, “ and if he could not save 
them no one can, for he swims like a fish and 
dives like an otter.” 

“ Then they are both dead,” said Madame Dan- 
dria, “it is terrible. Indeed, it is, and as they 
died together, our friend Pourm^val will be a 
gainer, I fancy.” 

“ Who cares for what gains,” said Germaine. 
“We ought to go straight down to the river. 
People have been saved after being an hour in 
the water.” 

“Very seldom,” said the Doctor, with a smile, 
“ but I must go and see if there is anything to be 
done.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


15 


** Roland has gone back to the river to see if he 
can get the bodies,” said the servant. 

“ Come, Doctor,” said M. Dandria, “ and. Queen, 
do not distress yourself so.” 

“ I cannot help thinking that we are partly the 
cause of this terrible catastrophe,” said the lady, 
“as they were coming to see us.” 

“You will take me with you, uncle?” said 
Germaine. “ I can put on a cloak and hood in a 
minute.” 

“Nonsense, child!” replied her uncle, “your 
mother would not think of allowing you- to go,” 
and as he was leaving the room Ernestine said 
anxiously — 

“ Come back and tell us the news just as soon 
as you can. Uncle Armand ; it is terrible to think 
there is no hope.” 

“ I shall not lose a moment in letting you know, 
my dear girl,” he answered, and then ran down- 
stairs and found the Doctor with Baptiste and 
the other servants in the garden. Carrying lighted 
lanterns, the party set off at once toward the 


river. 


i6 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


/ 


CHAPTER IL 

The storm was at its height, the snow falling 
heavily, but such was the violence of the wind 
that the flakes were blown along in whirlwinds 
before they reached the ground, and the tall chest- 
nut trees swung their branches to and fro, bend- 
ing and creaking until it seemed as if they must 
give way before the furious blasts ; the pine-trees 
shivered and rustled with a sound like the rising 
of the tide, and above them the clouds, parting 
suddenly, showed the full, round moon, whose 
melancholy rays momentarily illuminated the win- 
try landscape. 

The Park spread out on either side of the house, 
and was divided by the river at a distance of two 
or three hundred feet from the front steps, whence 
a path led straight to the high beach or bank, 
which made in summer a delightful promenade, 
though at present it was anything but agreeable, 
being fully exposed to the piercing north wind. 
It was thickly wooded, and the copse which cov- 
ered the left bank shut out from La Geraldine the 
view of the Vignemal’s house, which, however. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


17 


was not picturesque. It was called Le Fougeray, 
and belonged to the wife, but she had not kept it 
in repair, and the grounds round it were barren 
and neglected, as Monsieur Vignemal cared noth- 
ing for agricultural pursuits. The woods were 
entirely devoid of roads, and the trees and shrubs 
grew without the slightest care, so that the place 
looked like a wilderness, while the other side of 
the river — Mme. Dandria’s property — had the 
appearance of the gardens of a villa near Paris. 
Uncle Armand preferred civilized lands, so he had 
never crossed the. river. 

The two gentlemen pushed on through the 
blinding snow and winds, the Doctor a little in ad- 
vance, and suddenly the latter slackened his pace 
to exclaim breathlessly : 

“ I ought to have told the ladies to have warm 
blankets ready, but I forgot it; I am getting old, 
and the news of this strange accident has com- 
pletely upset me.” 

“ Strange indeed !” said Mons. Dandria, “ it is 
most extraordinary ! What the mischief could 
those people be thinking of to get into a boat in 
such a storm? Are there no bridges about here?” 

“ Yes, there is one farther up the river, but they 
probably did not want to get out theii: horses.” 


i8 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ And such weather to choose to go visiting in ! 
They must have been crazy, and it seems to me 
that their eccentricity has cost them their life.” 

In a few seconds they were at the top of the 
embankment, which sloped gradually to the river, 
and in three bounds they reached the beach below. 
The waters, swelled by the recent rains, were, tear- 
ing along so boisterously between their steep 
banks that the usually placid little stream looked 
like a rushing mountain torrent. 

“Great heavens!” cried Mons. Dandria. “Just 
look at that current ! I consider myself a good 
swimmer, but I should not like to be at the mercy 
of such a whirlpool.” ^ 

“ Baptiste,” called the Doctor, “ where is Ro- 
land ?” 

“We are looking for him, sir,” replied the man. 

“ It is not unlikely that he has swam across to 
his home,” said Doctor Sully. 

“His home?” asked Armand. “Where is 
that ?” 

“ I believe that for the last few weeks he has 
been living in a hut made of branches, on the left 
bank of the river, and he has had a little difficultv 
with the Vignemals on the subject, for Madame 
objected to^ his being on her domains. He laughs 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


19 


at ner and her threats, however, and, indeed, no 
one has ever been able to lay hold of him. I am 
probabl}^ the only person for whom he entertains 
the slightest regard, and whose advice he deigns 
to accept I once treated him for a fractured leg, 
and he is not ungrateful.” 

“ Was it not here that the ferry used to be, Bap- 
tiste ?” asked Mons. Dandria. 

Yes, sir,” said the man; ‘Uhere is the path 
that led to it, and here is a piece of the rope that 
stretched across the river ; you see, one end of it 
is still fastened to the stake on this bank, so it must 
have broken in the middle. It was not a strong 
rope ; there ought to have been a new one, but the 
ferry was so seldom used — ” 

“ And an ocean-cable could hardl}" have resisted 
such a hurricane. But the boat cannot have 
drifted far ; go in front with your lantern, Bap- 
tiste, and we will look for it. There is Roland 
running toward us.” 

‘Wes, that is he,” said the Doctor, “ I know him 
by his height — he is nearly six feet.’’ 

A minute later, Roland Ferrer reached them, 
and stopping before the Doctor he said, panting, 

“ I have found the woman.” 

“ Is she alive?” asked Doctor Sully, anxiously. 


20 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I do not know,” was the reply. 

What? Then you only saw her drifting by 
No. I touched her. I even tried to put her 
on my back to bring her here, but I could not.” 

“ Could not ? With your great strength ?” 
Strength was of no use, sir, for her legs were 
caught in the roots of an old willow tree on the 
bank, and I could not free her by myself.” 

“ But you should not have left her ; most likely 
she is dead by this time.” 

‘Tf she is, it is not my fault,” said the poacher, 

for I drew her head and shoulders out of the 
water, and laid her on the bank.” 

“With her head higher than her feet? that is 
all right ; you did the very best thing that could 
be done under the circumstances. But there is a 
bare chance that she may still be breathing, so I 
mUvSt go at once. Is it far from here ?” 

“A hundred feet or so. You know the place; 
where the river takes the first turn.” 

“ An ugly spot. The original owner was 
drowned there.” 

“ It is a perfect whirlpool.” 

During this dialogue Mons. Dandria had scarce- 
ly time to examine the new-comer, this strange 
youth who had the manners more of a gentleman 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


21 


than a vagabond ; but he discovered, with the aid 
of the fitful moonlight, that Roland was tall and of 
a fine figure, and clothed from head to foot in 
rabbit skins, like an Esquimaux or Robinson 
Crusoe. 

Before he had stopped speaking, Doctor Sully 
set off toward the fatal spot, and the rest followed 
him ; the storm had not begun to subside, but the 
wind was in their backs ; so they went along 
quickly. 

And Monsieur Vignemal ; have you seen noth- 
ing of him ?” asked Armand of Roland, who was a 
little in advance of him. 

No,” replied the latter, dryly, turning to stare 
at the speaker, whom he had never seen before. 

Then he is dead : let us do all we can for his 
wife.” 

“ I am afraid that she is not much better off than 
her husband,’’ said the Doctor. 

This is the place,” said Roland, stopping sud- 
denly and pointing to an opening in the hedge ; 

there is the willow tree, and the lady is just be- 
low on the gravel.” 

The Doctor went first and Armand followed, 
calling to the servants to bring the lantern, as the 
moon was again obscured by the clouds. 


22 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


The next instant he exclaimed, impatiently, 
Great heavens ! The body is not here. Doctor ; 
your young savage has been making game of us.” 

“ Look round carefully, Baptiste; bring the lan- 
tern nearer; Roland, where did you leave Mme. 
Vignemal ?” said Doctor Sully, excitedly. 

I left her right there on the bank,” replied the 
young man, leaping down in one bound to the 
edge of the beach. “ I don’t understand it,” he 
continued, looking about thoughtfully, “ there is 
the stone that I rested her head upon ; but stay, 
the roots of the tree have been torn away ; the cur- 
rent must have dragged the body off too ; the tree 
will soon follow.” 

“ That is true,” said the Doctor ; ^‘nothing can 
resist the force of this cursed river. But really, 
ni)^ lad, you did wrong to leave the poor woman 
here alone ; you should have called for help.” 

“Yes, I see that now,” said Roland, “but I 
trusted to the firmness of the tree.” 

“ Well, she certainly must have been dead when 
she reached here,” said the Doctor, “ for she had 
been in the water for fully twenty minutes. But 
I would have liked to have an opportunity to try 
to save her life ; now, there is nothing for us to do 
but to go home.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


23 


“ Not until I have told this fellow what I think 
of him,” said Mons. Dandria in an angry tone. 

“Are you speaking of me?” asked Roland, in a 
sharp tone of voice. 

“ Yes, you rascal, and I want no insolence from 
you. Your conduct is, to me, very suspicious, and 
I see no reason to doubt that you have helped 
drown these people whom you pretend to have 
tried to save.” 

Roland recoiled suddenly before this accusation, 
and for an instant looked like a race-horse about 
to leap a ditch ; but at a sign from Doctor Sully he 
cooled down, and answered, quietly — 

“ You can see that I have risked my life,” point- 
ing to his clothes, which were streaming with wa- 
ter. “ I dived three times,” he continued, “ and I 
could easily have stayed in safety on the bank, for 
no one knew that I was there. Think what you 
like, however; perhaps you might have saved 
Mons. and Mme. Vignemal.” 

Armand Dandria made no reply, for the young 
man’s manner had impressed him, and not unfavor- 
ably. It could not be possible that he was 
guilty. 

“ Let us go up to the Park again,’’ said the Doc- 
tor, “ for this ground is not at all firm, and if we 


24 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


stay here much longer the waters may carry us 
away too.” 

They clambered up the bank again with the 
snow blinding their eyes and the wind nearly tak- 
ing away their breath ; and when they had reached 
the top, Doctor Sully turned to the young for- 
ester, and said, kindly — . 

“ There is a good fire in the kitchen of La Ger- 
aldine ; you must come back with us and dry your 
clothes.” 

“It is not necessary, sir,” said Roland, “and I 
would rather go home !” 

“ Where is your home ?” 

“ Very near here ; in the woods, just above the 
place where the ferry was.” 

“ On the other side of the river, then, and you 
will have to swim across to your kennel that 
would not shelter a fox ! I will not allow it, my 
lad.” 

“ But, Monsieur — ” 

“ No excuses. 1 forbid you to go ; and if you 
disobey me, 1 promise you that the next time you 
break your leg — which is not unlikely to happen, 
thanks to the way you live — you will have to 
mend it yourself.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


25 


The young man was silent, and the Doctor went 
on : 

“ Besides, you will have to give us the details 
of the accident, as you were the only witness.” 

“ That will not take very long,” said Roland, 
quickly. “ I had just stretched myself in my hut 
for the night when I heard voices coming toward 
me, and I thought the keepers from Fougeray 
were coming to hunt me, but I soon recognized 
the voices of the VignemaFs and their servant.” 

They had a servant with them ! What has 
become of him, was he drowned too?” 

‘‘ No ; Mons. Vignemal and his wife were on 
the raft, and the servant stayed to loosen the chain 
which held it, when suddenly the current broke 
the rope and carried off the raft, and then the ser- 
vant began to scream for help.” 

“ It was he I heard, then. He called so loudly 
that his voice reached me in my sister’s drawing- 
room,” said Mons. Dandria. 

“Very likely, for the wind set in the direction 
of La Geraldine. But the man did not wait here 
long, for when he saw the boat spinning round in 
the water, he lost his head completely and ran 
away.” 

“ He must have gone back to Fougeray,” said 


26 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


the Doctor, but it is strange that he did not re- 
turn with others and make some attempt to rescue 
his master and mistress. But I have heard that 
they were not beloved by their servants.” 

*‘That is true,” said Roland, and it was for 
that reason that I went to La Geraldine and not 
to Fougeray for assistance — after having done all 
I could by myself.” 

You plunged into the river at once, did you 
not ?” asked the Doctor. 

Oh yes, and I thought I could easily save 
them, for the rope was trailing after the raft, and 
1 had only to take hold of it, and tow them to 
land.” 

“ Humph ! not an easy task, I should think.” 

I could have done it, though, for the boat was 
spinning round like a top, and I soon came near 
it. I was so close that I saw the two persons on 
it as plainly as I see you. The gentleman was 
sitting down and had his hands clasped before his 
face, and his wife was standing up and seemed to 
be unfastening the waist of her dress. I thought, 
too, that she drew out something, I cannot say 
what.” 

‘‘ Her purse, perhaps. I have heard that she 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


27 


always carried her papers and bank-checks about 
her.” 

All that I can tell you is, that just as I swam 
close to them and called out, ‘ Don’t be afraid,’ the 
raft was hurled violently against a rock in the 
middle of the stream, and I saw it no more.” 

“ But you dived .^” 

Yes, and you may be sure that if I came up. 
unsuccessful it was only because success was im- 
possible, for I know the bottom of the river as 
well as I do its surface. I found nothing, though. 
... I was out of breath, and could not do any 
more.” 

“ I should think not,” said Mons. Dandria, sym- 
pathetically, for the young man he had just ac- 
cused so hotly was beginning to interest him. 
His discourse seemed to be all candor and sim- 
plicity. 

“ I know very well that you did not desert the 
unfortunates — you did more than your duty,” 
cried the Doctor ; “ nothing could resist such a 
force of water — rescue was impossible. But tell 
me, Roland, was Mme. Vignemal breathing when 
you drew her out of the water?” 

“ I do not think so,” he replied, “ although I 
fancied that she made a slight movement when I 


28 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


touched her; but I may have been mistaken. The 
only thing I am quite sure of is, that her hands 
were clenched tightly, as if she was holding some- 
thing, and her arms were as stiff as bars of iron.” 

“ Good !” said the Doctor, now I am certain 
that she was past help; I could have done nothing 
for her. Go on before, Roland, and as soon as 
you have dried and warmed )"Ourself at the fire, 
you may go back to your burrow if you choose ; 
but I insist on your coming home with us first, for 
I have something more to say to you — but not out 
in this weather.” 

The young man hesitated, and it was very evi- 
dent that the prospect of drying himself in the 
great kitchen of La Geraldine was not a tempting 
one ; but he had a great respect for Doctor Sully, 
and was unwilling to offend him; so, after a mo- 
ment’s silence, he joined the men who were walk- 
ing in front with the lanterns. 

“ Where does he hail from, this Robin Hood ?” 
asked Mons. Dandria, in a low tone. 

“ He came here when he was very young, and 
his father was a sort of Bohemian (probably from 
Spain), who went round the country buying old 
iron and clipping horses for a livelihood, and one 
day he was found dead on the road-side near Arc^^ 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


29 


The child, who was seated near the corpse, was 
taken charge of by the Christian Brothers, who 
brought him up until he had reached his fifteenth 
year.” 

“ I can guess the rest,” said Mons. Dandria. 
“ As soon as he passed his childhood his natural 
instincts got the upper hand, and he ran away and 
turned poacher.” 

“ He is not, strictly speaking, a poacher,” said 
the Doctor, “ for he does not sell the game he 
shoots or the fish he catches, but merely takes 
what suffices for his own support. He cares noth- 
ing about money, for he has no use for it ; his 
clothes are made of rabbit-skins and his cap of 
otter.” 

“ He is an ideal Leather-stocking, and ought to 
belong in the woods of Canada,” said Mons. Dan- 
dria. “ I have a mind to advise my sister to make 
a gamekeeper of him.” 

“ He would not accept the position ; he is too 
fond of his wild, free life. Mme. Vignemal tried 
repeatedly to take him into her service, but he 
preferred to live in a state of open warfare with 
her ; so she ended by setting her people on his 
track to arrest him.” 

“ Indeed, I think he is likely to come to a bad 


30 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


end, Doctor ; a few minutes ago I was convinced 
that he' had helped our unfortunate neighbors out 
of the world.” 

He has spoken the simple truth ; that I will 
answer for,” returned the Doctor; “ for since I have 
known him he has never once lied to me ; and, at 
all events, the Vignemals’ servant saw the acci- 
dent; he will tell exactly what happened.” 

“ Oh, I don’t suspect your protege now — how 
old is he ?” 

“ He does not know that himself, for he was 
probably born on the road-side or in the depths of 
a forest, where there was no magistrate to register 
the birth ; that is how he has escaped being en- 
listed.” 

“And a great pity it is, too, for he would look 
uncommonly well in a cuirass. I have not been 
able to see his face very distinctly, but it struck 
me that it was one of extraordinary beauty — fit for 
an artist’s model. But to return to this mournful 
business of the Vignemals ; do you think there is 
nothing more to be done ? Ought we not to noti- 
fy the mayor of Arcy ?” 

“ I will be in town in the course of an hour and 
will attend to that. The mayor will probably have 
the river dragged, and appoint me to examine the 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


31 


bodies. But first I must go and take leave of 
Mine. Dandria and her daughters.” 

“ You will not have the trouble of going upstairs, 
for I see my nieces standing at the door of the 
kitchen, and their mother is probably not far off. 
There they are, talking to Baptiste ; I am glad 
we are not the first ones to tell them the bad 
news. See, they have gone into the house again, 
and the men follow them. Come in, Doctor.” 

The kitchen was as large as a guard-room in a 
fortress of the Middle Ages, and immense logs, 
almost whole trees, were blazing in the wide 
chimney, while three large lamps, suspended from 
the ceiling, flooded the room with light. 

Madame Dandria was not there, but her daugh- 
ters had just learned the news from the old serv- 
ant when their uncle and the Doctor entered. 

Ernestine, more pale even than usual, and with 
tears sparkling in her eyes, came up to her uncle, 
saying: 

Is it true, then, that there is no hope?” 

Yes, my dear,” he answered, they have done 
everything that possibly could be done. When I 
say they I mean, not myself, for I was too late, and 
our good Doctor, too — for the river had already 
carried off the bodies of our unhappy neighbors — 


32 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


but we have brought with us one who risked his 
life. Where are you, my lad ? Come here and 
show yourself.” 

Roland Ferrer, who had been standing in the 
shadow of the fire-place, came forward, though un- 
willingly, when Monsieur Dandria called him, and 
stood in the middle of the room. He held his cap 
of otter-skin in his hand, and his thick, brown hair 
rested in natural curls upon a rather low but well- 
shaped forehead ; the features were as straight as 
those of a Greek statue, the complexion a rich 
olive, the lips full and red, and the eyes large, 
and as brilliant as two black diamonds ; they were 
the sort of eyes that speak^ and they were looking 
fixedly at Ernestine. 

“Heavens! how handsome he is,” said Uncle 
Armand, who never took any pains to conceal his 
thoughts. 

“The Doctor told us so,” returned Germaine, 
going nearer to the young Bohemian, who was 
not in the least disconcerted by her curious 
glances, and, indeed, seemed hardly conscious of 
them. He had no eyes for any one but Ernestine, 
who, however, was looking at him as one would 
look at a rare and beautiful bird or a statue, with 
deep interest, but without any emotion. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


33 


Germaine took in his fine face and form in- 
stantly, and then, recalling her uncle’s words, ad- 
dressed him with great warmth. 

“You risked your life, sir, and I am very glad 
to know you, and I hope you will often come to 
La Geraldine. My mother, I am sure, will want 
to see you, too.” 

Roland, a little astonished at being called sir, 
looked at her and bowed without speaking, and 
then Monsieur Dandria added : 

“ I hope you will not refuse to accompany me 
the next time I go shooting, for the Doctor tells 
me you are an expert with the gun and I am very 
anxious to witness your skill in bringing down 
some of my sister’s game,” 

“You are very good, sir,” stammered the poach- 
er, and Monsieur Dandria went on — 

“ If you do not come I shall go for you, for I 
am determined that we shall shoot together, and 
if the weather prevents our going out you can 
stay Tiere and my nieces will take your portrait.” 

“ That is, Ernestine will take it,” put in Ger- 
maine smiling, and the elder sister added, eva- 
sively — 

“We must first see whether mamma will like 
the plan ” 


34 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


I will arrange that,” cried Uncle Armand, 

and Roland, I shall expect you to come, remem- 
ber.” 

I will come, sir,” said Roland, after a pause. 

“ Don’t keep me waiting, or else I shall think 
that you bear me malice for certain sharp words 
which 1 regret having spoken.” 

“ Oh, Roland is too sensible to give them a 
thought,” said the Doctor, briskly, and if you take 
m}" advice,” he added, turning to his prot^g^, 
“ you will stay at La Geraldine to-night, or else, 
beware of pleurisy ! Besides, you will have to 
come to me at Arcy to-morrow morning to ex- 
plain the details of the accident to the magistrate ; 
and, as you are not in the odor of sanctity with the 
authorities, they may require some guaranty for 
your sincerity.” 

“ I will come to you before noon,” said Roland, 
without stating whether or not he intended to 
accept the hospitality of La Geraldine for the 
night ; and as the ladies and gentlemen turiled to 
leave the room he bowed to them with easy grace, 
and then stood leaning back against the chimney- 
piece. 

Ernestine merely returned his bow, but Ger 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 35 

maine smiled and waved her small white hand at 
him, before following her sister up the stairs. 

“ Well, do you think you have found your hero, 
Germaine?” asked her uncle, “does his appear- 
ance suit you ?” 

“ It suits me too well,” she answered, “ for I in- 
tended to marry my hero, and I could not think of 
marrying a wild man of the woods.” 

“ You had better give up all thoughts of this 
hero,” said Monsieur Dandria, willing to carry on 
the joke, “ for he hardly looked at you, but kept 
his glance fixed on Ernestine ; he seemed to be 
devouring her face with his eyes.” 

“ I did not know that I made such an impres- 
sion on him,” said Ernestine, quietly ; and just then 
they heard their mother’s voice, asking anxiously, 
“ What news?” 

“Bad news, my dear Queen,” replied her brother. 

“Drowned? Both dead?” she cried as they 
came up the stair-case. 

“ Yes, they are gone, and God only knows when 
the bodies will be found, for the river empties 
into the sea.” 

“ Oh, they will not be carried as far as that,” 
cried the Doctor, “ for when the water begins to 
subside they will probably be stranded some- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


3(5 

where, and indeed it would be unfortunate if the 
deaths could not be fully proved.’' 

“Yes, unfortunate for that lad who behaved so 
bravely, but who will perhaps be accused,” said 
Monsieur Dandria ; “but I will help you to defend 
him, Doctor; I will answer for him, though I con- 
fess he did not inspire me with confidence at first.” 

The dialogue, begun in the passage, ended in 
front of the drawing-room fire. Madame Dan- 
dria listened, trembling nervously, and her daugh- 
ters tried in vain to calm her. 

“ Really, Queen, you excite yourself unneces- 
sarily,” said her brother, “ I am sincerely sorry 
for the death of Monsieur and Madame Vignemal, 
but I have never laid eyes on them, nor have 
you^^ — ” 

“ I ought to have had the ferry repaired.” 

“Why so? You never used it; and, what is 
more, I discovered only the other day, while look- 
ing over some of your deeds, that the ferry did 
not belong to this estate at all, but to Fougeray ; 
so you have nothing to reproach yourself with, 
and you had better leave it to the Vignemal’s 
heirs to mourn their death,” he said, philosophi- 
cally. 

“ I hardly think that they will shed many tears,” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


37 


said the Doctor, slowly, “ for I only know of one 
heir, and he is estranged almost entirely from his 
Uncle Vignemal, and quite so from his aunt-in-law. 
She led her husband by the nose 

“You mean Arthur du Pourm^val ; but how 
can he inherit? It seems that this loving pair 
arranged by will that the whole fortune should go 
to whichever survived the other. Now, the wife 
perished at the same time as her husband ; can 
you tell me which of the two actually lived the 
longest ?” 

“ No, but the law provides for such an emer- 
gency. In default of positive proof to the con- 
trary the succession is settled according to the 
respective ages of the deceased.’' 

“ I forget how that is, but I imagine that the 
younger would be supposed to survive the long- 
est — is not that the most natural conclusion?" 

“ Not always, for if both were under fifteen 
years of age the elder would probably be the’ 
stronger of the two." 

“ Ah, yes, but our neighbors were both consider- 
ably over fifteen." 

“The husband was fifty-five and the wife fifty- 
four, at least ; there was not more than six months 
difference in their ages." 


38 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ And if the husband were the elder the wife 
would inherit.” 

“ I cannot say as to that, with any certainty ; I 
am not sufficiently familiar with the law; but it 
strikes me that the question not only of age but 
also of sex would be considered.” 

Oh, Armand,” said" Madame Dandria, reproach- 
fully. “ I do not see how you can have the heart 
to be discussing the question of inheritance so 
soon after this fearful tragedy. What is it to us 
who inherits the fortune ?” 

It is a matter of interest to some one we know, 
and as I was not acquainted with the parties de- 
ceased it is only natural that I should be anxious 
to know what chance our friend Pourm^val stands 
of becoming a millionaire. He is a very good 
sort of fellow.” 

“ He leads the german most delightfully,” said 
Germaine, mischievously, and heruncleanswered — 

‘‘A good leader of the german may possess 
more desirable qualities also, miss; but at present 
the question is. Will he be the master of Fougeray 
or not ?” 

“ I shall be able to tell you to-morrow, for in a 
small place like Arcy news spreads rapidly,” said 
the Doctor. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


39 


We could decide the question now, if we only 
had a code, but these girls read nothing but novels, 
and I only the newspapers ” 

“ A code, uncle ?” said Ernestine, my brother 
has one ; I saw it lying on his table. Shall I get 
it for you ?” 

Yes, dear, do,” he answered ; and as she left the 
room he turned to Germaine, saying — 

You do not care much for law-books, do you ? 
I dare say you do not even know what a code 
looks like.” 

“ I beg your pardon, uncle, it is a big book with 
the edges of the leaves all different colors ; but, in- 
deed, I have never opened it ; my code is here,” 
she added, laying her hand on her heart. 

“ And if you follow its teachings you are not 
likely to go wrong,” said Uncle Armand ; “but 
don’t listen to that child. Doctor ; tell me, who are 
Madame Vignemal’s heirs?” 

“ Oh, there are several of them — four cousins. 
Her father made his money in trade, but all her 
other relations are country people and she did not 
acknowledge them. There w^as one exception, 
though, an orphan whom she adopted and in- 
tended to educate for the bar ; perhaps she thought 
he would be useful in pleading for her, as she was 


40 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


always at law with her neighbors. But she soon 
lost interest in the young fellow, for he displayed 
no taste for the law, and on finishing his studies 
he left Paris, without returning here at all, and I 
believe the truant Roger has not been heard of 
since.” 

Roger f said Germaine, “was that his first 
name ?” 

“ Yes, Roger Pontac.” 

“ That is a pretty name,” she said, “ so simple 
and short. And does no one know where he is 
now ?” 

“No one has cared to inquire, but I think his 
aunt imagines that he has enlisted ; he was a 
strong, energetic fellow, and never knevr what 
fear was.” 

“ Perhaps he will come back a general some 
day, and that will be better than having Madame 
Vignemal’s money,” said the girl ; and at that 
moment her sister came into the room carrying a 
large book. 

“Thank you, dear,” said Uncle Armand, “it is 
a heavy load for you ; let me take it. Why, Alfred 
has not read this very much ; the leaves are not 
cut,” he added, putting down the great volume on 
the table ; “ will 3^)11 find the article, Doctor?” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 4 1 

“ It would come under the head of Succession ; 
let me see, this is it, Book Third, Article 720/’ 

“ Arthur du Pourmeval little thinks what trouble 
we are taking on his account,” said Armand, while 
the Doctor turned over the leaves of the book. 

“ Listen,” said the latter, suddenly ; ‘‘ this is what 
Article 720 says : ‘ If two persons, inheriting re- 
ciprocally, meet their death in the same accident, 
and it is not known with certainty which of the 
two died first, the law decides the question of in- 
heritance by the following circumstances of age 
and sex.’ Article 721 says that, ‘if the parties are 
under fifteen years of age the elder is presumed 
to have survived the longer ; but if they are be- 
tween the ages of fifteen and sixty the j^ounger one 
is supposed to have been the survivor ■’ ” 

“ Then madame’s heirs will inherit, and Pour- 
m6val will get nothing,” cried Monsieur Dandria, 
impatiently. 

“ Wait a minute ; the article adds, however, ‘ if 
they are of the same sex' ” 

“ And if not ?” 

“ Then the male is always supposed to have 
lived the longest, if the difference in the ages did 
not exceed one year.” 

“ The deuce ! that alters the case entirely, for 


42 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Madame Vignemal was only six months younger 
than her husband, you say, Doctor.” 

“ Yes, hardly six months ; our young friend will 
be a rich man, after all.” 

“ How much do the Vignemal’s leave?” 

“They were said to have an income of fifty 
thousand francs, and as they lived so very eco- 
nomically their capital must have been nearly 
doubled. Madame’s heirs will probably contest 
the will, but they will lose their case, for there can 
be no question as to the decision of the court ; and 
as for Roger Pontac, he would not make any 
claim, even if he knew of his aunt’s death — which 
he is not at all apt to do — for he is a gay, careless 
fellow who does not long for wealth. The money 
would be much better in young Pourm^val’s 
hands.” 

“ Come, come. Doctor, you know that Arthur is 
fond of spending his money.” 

“ Oh, yes, but he will get over that. All he 
needs is to find a good, sensible girl, with some 
firmness of character ” 

“Then he will never knock at my door!” cried 
Germaine, bursting out laughing ; but Ernestine 
blushed hotly, Madame Dandria bit her lips. 
Uncle Armand frowned impatiently, and the good 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


43 


Doctor saw that he was going too fast and too 
far. 

‘‘ It is getting very late,” he said, hurriedly, “ I 
will bid you good-night.” 

‘‘Oh, wait and have a cup of tea,” said Armand, 
as Baptiste entered with the tray, “and meanwhile 
they will get out the coupe — you cannot return to 
town on foot.” Then turning to the servant he 
asked, “ has that lad Roland had some supper?” 

“No, sir, he would not take anything, but ran 
out of the house as if he was mad.” 

“ I shall never succeed in taming my savage,” 
said Doctor Sully, shaking his head and sighing 
deeply. 

“ I am afraid he will not let us paint his por- 
trait,” added Germaine, as they sat down to tea. 


44 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER III. 

The cold weather seldom lasts long in the 
northwest of France. It rains a great deal in the 
autumn but rarely freezes, and about the first of 
November the beautiful St. Martin' s summer begins. 

The storm which had been the cause of the 
Vignemal’s tragic death had disappeared entirely 
when the dawn broke next day ; the sun’s first 
rays melted the snow, the air was balmy, the sky 
blue, and the river was fast sinking to its natural 
bounds. 

At La Geraldine every one got up late that 
morning, and during breakfast they talked of 
nothing but the catastrophe of the previous day, 
so that the meal was a very gloomy one. There 
was no fresh news, for neither the Doctor nor 
Roland Ferrer had returned, and the bodies had 
not been found, though the servants had searched 
carefully along the river’s bank for more than a 
mile. 

At last Uncle Armand proposed that he and 
the girls should go for a ride, by way of diverting 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


45 


their minds from the painful event of the day 
before. 

Their mother at first opposed the plan, but was 
finally persuaded to give her consent, though re- 
luctantly, and Germaine flew off to tell her sister 
to get ready. She delighted in out-door exercise 
of all kinds, and would gladly accompany her 
uncle on his shooting expeditions if she had been 
allowed ; Ernestine, on the other hand, preferred 
less violent amusements, though she seldom 
opposed the wishes of her sister and uncle. In an 
hour’s time the party was ready to mount, and 
Madame Dandria came out to see them go. 

Germaine looked perfectly charming in a habit 
of dark blue cloth and a felt hat with a very wide 
brim — an old Gainsborough which she had pressed 
into the service for this occasion — for Madame 
Dandria had never thought it necessary to pro- 
vide fashionable equestrian attire for her daugh- 
ters, as they were not accustomed to riding in the 
Bois de Boulogne or the Champs-Elysees, as did 
the lovers of society and the American residents 
of Paris. She had not educated them for “ high 
life,” but had expected them to marry men in 
their own sphere. 

Ernestine’s habit was black, and she wore a 


46 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


little, low hat of her brother’s, which was very be- 
coming to her, and as for Monsieur Dandria, he 
was dressed in a short jacket, corduro}^ trousers, 
top-boots, and a round cap ; he sat his horse well, 
having had long practice ; his figure was strong 
and erect, his eyes bright, his teeth white and per- 
fect, and his beard but slightly tinged with grey. 
At first sight no one would have guessed his age 
to be a day more than forty. He rode one of the 
two grey mares that belonged to Madame Dan- 
dria’s barouche, patient, gentle creatures who 
were good enough for riding, provided no very 
lengthy galloping was expected of them. 

Ernestine was on the other mare, but Germaine 
had chosen for her own use a fine bay of her 
brother’s, a blood-horse which young Dandria 
claimed to have broken-in himself, and which he 
boasted would go for twelve hours together with- 
out resting, and leap a hedge five feet high. 

Uncle Armand had not much confidence in his 
nephew, and would have preferred to ride the bay 
himself, but the animal was not strong enough to 
bear his weight, and, besides that, Germaine was 
so anxious to try it herself that he decided to let 
her have her way. 

‘‘Do not be late, I beg you,” said Madame 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


47 


Dandria, who was not a little disquieted to see 
Germaine’s horse pawing the’ ground impa- 
tiently. 

“ Oh, we shall not go far,” replied her brother ; 
“these girls are very anxious to be off, but when 
they have trotted for an hour or two they will be 
quite ready to come home, I dare say.” 

“ We shall see about that,” said Germaine in an 
undertone, and then the little cavalcade set out, 
Ernestine riding between her uncle and sister. 

“Where shall we go, young ladies?” asked 
their uncle ; “ it is all very well to ride, but one 
should have an object — shall we go to town? We 
might see the Doctor and ask him the news.” 

“ Perhaps we ought not to be seen riding in 
Arcy to-day,” said Ernestine, “ it would look as if 
we had very little sympathy for Monsieur du 
Pourm^val’s loss.” 

“ Indeed I think he is not likely to grieve very 
deeply over an accident which makes him a rich 
man,” said Arrnand, “but still you are right, 
Ernestine ; our presence in Arcy might occasion 
remark ; people would perhaps say that we were 
in great haste to find out whether our friend was 
to inherit — they are such gossips, these provincials ; 
it is better to give them no opportunity for being 


48 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


ill-natured. But if we do not go to Arcy the 
only other ride is along. the banks of the river.” 

“Oh, no, uncle!” cried Germaine, “don’t let us 
go near the Beuvron, for we might see the bodies 
of our unfortunate neighbors, and that would be 
worse than meeting Monsieur du Pourm^val.” 

“Well, where shall we go?” he asked, good- 
naturedly, “ I myself have no preference, but I 
know that the roads in this neighborhood are very 
rough and dangerous, and if one of our horses 
came back with a broken knee your mother would 
say it was my fault.” x 

“ If you will leave it to me I will take you to the 
loveliest place.you have ever seen,” said Germaine. 

“ What place is that?” asked Monsieur Dandria. 

“ Lamon Rock,” she answered. 

“ What is that?” 

“ Do you mean to say you have lived at La 
Geraldine all this time, and do not know where 
Lamon Rock is 1” 

“ I have never even heard of it before,” he re- 
plied. “I know the Tertre woods, because they 
belong to your mother, and I have shot excellent 
woodcock there, and the Forest Br^teche where, 
unfortunately, I am not admitted, but as for your 
Lemon Rock — ” 


V 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


49 


“ Lamoity if you please, not lemon,” interrupted 
Germaine, “ but let us go there at once. Turn to 
the right; — and on the way I will tell you the 
legend connected with this rock.” 

“ A legend, oh that is delightful ; but tell me 
first how far off is this romantic spot?” 

Not more than a mile, and the road is really 
beautiful ; right through the woods you like so 
much on account of the woodcock; then into a 
wild rocky gorge, with a rushing stream at the 
bottom of it ; but that is nothing compared to the 
rock itself. Imagine, uncle, a great wall of gran- 
ite rising above a mass of foliage like the Alps or 
Pyrenees — in miniature ; and then, when you have 
climbed up this precipice, you can see over the 
whole forest of Br^teche, even as far as the chateau 
of the Duke of Bretteville. It is the grandest 
view that can be had for ten miles round.” 

“ That chateau is hardly more than a shooting- 
box,” said Monsieur Dandria, “ and the Duke, 
being too old to hunt, visits it very seldom. But 
he is here now, Pourm^val tells me, and we were 
thinking of going to see him and asking for per- 
mission to hunt his roe-bucks. But I hear that 
he has just lost his only son.” 

“ Yes, in Tunis — the newspapers mentioned his 


50 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


death ; he was killed while making- an attack at 
the head of his squadron. But now I want to tell 
you the legend.” 

“Where did you hear it, Germaine?” asked 
Ernestine. 

“ From Monsieur du Pourm^val. He usually 
talks about nothing but races and jockeys ; but the 
other day he saw that I was tired of that subject, 
so he told me stories instead, and this is one of 
them.” 

“ ‘ In the very middle of Lamon Rock there is a 
cleft that reaches from the top all the way down 
to the bottom, like a great gash ; and of course this 
cleft is an air-hole for the infernal regions. Inside 
this granite palace live fairies, who guard precious 
stones of all kinds — diamonds, rubies, and emeralds 
— heaps and heaps of them. These fairies keep, be- 
sides, terrible storms chained up; but when they 
are in a bad humor they let out the winds that 
blow over the hills, tearing down trees and 
houses — ’ ” 

“ And capsizing people who are crossing 
streams on rafts,” put in Uncle Armand. 

“ Wait, I have not finished yet,” she said : “ ‘ And 
when a girl wants to know the name of the man 
she is to marry she has only to put her mouth 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


51 


close to the hole in the rock and whisper her own 
name, and in a minute she will hear a soft, elfin 
voice answering George, or Edmund, or whoever it 
may be. Then it is settled ; she is sure to fall in 
love with the one whom the fairies have named 
for her, and, what is more, he will love her, too, 
and they will get married.’ ” 

“ Well — really, that is not a bad idea,” laughed 
Uncle Armand. “ The love-sick swain has only to 
hide behind the rock when his beloved one is 
approaching, and the thing is done.” 

Oh, uncle, you don’t believe in anything.” 

“ I believe that there are girls foolish enough to 
consult this oracle, and I hope you are not one of 
them.” 

1 won’t promise that,” said Germaine. 

Oh, for shame! You would never find 
Ernestine coming to Lamon Rock with her love 
affairs.” 

“ Because she has none,” said Germaine. 

“And you have, I suppose,” cried Uncle Ar- 
mand, laughing. 

“ No, but I should like to have,” she answered. 

“ Then, if I were a handsome young man, like 
Arthur du Poiirmeval, for instance, I know what 


52 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


I would do ; I would go close to the fairy speak- 
ing-tube ” 

*‘You would only lose time/' said Germaine 
“ but here we are in the middle of the woods. Is 
it not grand? Those beech trees look like great 
marble columns against the yellow foliage : ‘ Le 
soleil et la pluie ont rouille la foretl Where have I 
seen that line, Ernestine?” 

It is Victor Hugo’s,” answered Ernestine. 

I thought so. Ah, if he had only seen Lamon 
Rock he would have written still more beautiful 
verses, and I would have learned them by heart.” 

“ And recited them to us every day, I dare say,” 
said her uncle, “ but just now I wish you would 
be quiet for a moment and let me listen. I think 
there is some one in the bushes close beside us.” 

“ I heard a noise like cracking twigs a few min- 
utes ago, uncle, but it has stopped now, and 1 
think it was a buck we started.” 

“ There are no bucks here,” said Mons. Dandria. 

I wish there were ; Breteche is full of them.” 

“ Then it is a hare.” 

I think it is a man.” 

A poacher, perhaps. And who knows, it 
might be Doctor Sully ’s friend !” cried Germaine, 
delightedly. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


53 


“ He would have no reason for concealing him- 
self — I invited him to go out shooting with me.” 

“ And he need not be ashamed to show himself/' 
said the younger girl, “ for he is too handsome for 
anything. Such gorgeous, brilliant eyes ! They 
seemed to be really flashing ; if he had looked at 
me as he did at Ernestine I should have caught 
fire !” 

“ I am not so inflammable,” said Ernestine. 

I am almost sorry for having made any ad- 
vances to that peculiar person,” said Mons. Dan- 
dria, “ for I have been reflecting on it all night 
long, and the more I think of the accident in the 
river, the more I suspect him of hypocrisy. He 
declares that he leaped in to save the lady and 
gentleman, but no one saw him do it; he says 
that he drew Mme. Vignemal from the river and 
laid her on the bank, but when we got there she 
was gone, and we have only his word for it that 
he did not throw her back into the water.” 

“ But, uncle, what object could he have had for 
committing such a crime?” cried Germaine. “He 
would not have done it so as to let Mons. du Pour- 
meval inherit, for he does not know him ; and be- 
sides that, he has never studied the civil code, I am 


sure. 


54 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I dare say he would not know or care anything 
about the question of succession/’ said her uncle, 
“ but he must have hated Mine. Vignemal, who had 
tried to have him seized for trespassing and poach, 
ing. If I were a magistrate I would throw him 
into prison until he was ready to confess.” 

“ I cannot believe that this Roland is a mur- 
derer,” said Ernestine, gently, “ for Dr. Sully has 
interested himself in him ” 

“ Hush !” cried Mons. Dandria stopping his 
mare suddenly, “that time I heard it plainly. I 
am certain that there is some one creeping along 
in the thicket — listen !” 

The girls stopped their horses and looked in the 
direction of their uncle’s eager glance. 

The copse which bordered the road did not 
extend far, and beyond it grew herbs and ferns, 
and these were waving gently in the breeze. No 
one would have thought for an instant that they 
could have concealed a man, however, and not a 
sound was to be heard in the forest. 

“You have made a mistake, uncle, there is no 
one here but ourselves,” said Germaine, in a low 
tone. 

“There is, I am sure of it,” Uncle Armand in- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


55 


sisted ; ** some one has been following us ever 
since we came into the woods.” 

“ But who could it be? Robbers? That is not 
likel}^ and no one that I know of would want to 
spy on us ; we are not conspirators.” 

‘‘ I do not pretend to say who it is, but that 
some one is concealed in those bushes I am per- 
fectly positive, and if the branches did not hang so 
low I would ride over there and find out. But I 
have thought of a better plan and shall put it in 
practice at once — ride on.” 

“ I could not have held Ralph much longer, he 
was getting so impatient,” said Germaine when 
they had been trotting for a few minutes in silence. 

“ The road is becoming very bad, are you sure 
you know the way to your fairy rock? Have 
you been to it before ?” 

“ No, uncle, but Dr. Sully described the road 
so closely that I could not mistake if I tried.” 

Do you mean to say that it was the Doctor 
who put this idea into your head? Well, I had a 
better opinion of his common sense; but since I 
have come upon this wild-goose chase I suppose I 
must see it to the end — that is, when I have set- 
tled accounts with this individual who dogs our 
steps. I should like to know what his object is.” 


56 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ Perhaps it is Ernestine or I. Perhaps he is an 
admirer; what fun that would be, so romantic! 
But I don’t believe that any of our Arcy friends 
would think it worth while to run the length of 
these woods for the pleasure of looking at us 
between the twigs and leaves. At all events I 
am sure Mons. du Pourm^val would not.” 

“ Why do you always like to drag his name in ?” 
asked Ernestine. 

“ So as to give you the pleasure of defending 
him, for I know you like nothing better,” said her 
sister, teasingly. 

“ Listen to me,” interrupted Uncle Armand, in a 
half whisper. “ Do you see that path that crosses 
the road we are on ? Ride on together and I will 
stop to arrange my saddle, and then mount again 
and hide behind that large oak that stands just 
where the two roads meet. If the person who is 
following us attempts to cross the path I will give 
him chase, but if he does not appear I will soon 
overtake you. Wait for me on the border of the 
forest.” 

“ But suppose the man should attack you,” said 
Germaine. 

“You need not be afraid of that,” he answered, 
“for I never go without my revolver ; but I have 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


57 


no idea that I shall have occasion to use it, so you 
need not worry about me.” 

Germaine was going to insist, but he made her 
a sign to be quiet, and then raising his voice said 
in a tone loud enough to be heard at some dis- 
tance — 

“ Confound it, my saddle is loose,; I shall have 
to get down and tighten the girths. But you 
need not wait for me, I shall soon overtake you.” 

The two girls obeyed him, though unwillingly, 
and as soon as they had passed the cross-road 
looked behind them more than once ; they saw 
Mons. Dandria leap into his saddle again and then 
ride behind the oak tree, which was large enough 
to effectually conceal him. 

What a singular idea of uncle’s,” said Ernestine. 

‘‘Yes, and what possible good can it do?” re- 
turned her sister. “ If there is really a man hid- 
ing in the copse he will certainly see through 
Uncle Armand’s manoeuvre and make his escape 
in the opposite direction.” 

“ So much the better if he does.” 

“ But I should like to see him,” said Germaine. 

“ I should not!” cried Ernestine. 

“ Why, it would be delightful — such an advent- 
ure, and adventures are so rare ! And there is no 


58 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


doubt that some one is hiding in the copse, I heard 
him plainly ; and it is no poacher T am convinced ; 
but v;ho can it be ? I am tempted to believe that 
one of us has turned the head of some country 
fellow who takes us for goddesses.” 

‘‘ Oh, Germaine, you are always getting up 
some romantic idea ; have you no common sense 
at all?” 

“You are so very wise yourself, Ernestine, I 
advise you to get married at once ; and, by the 
way, since we are talking about marrying, tell me, 
would you have Arthur du Pourm^val ?” 

“Really, Germaine, I have never thought of 
such a possibility,” replied the elder sister. 

“ Well, you will have to think of it one of these 
days, for Arthur thinks of no one but you, that I 
knozv ; and now that he is to come into a fortune 
he will soon offer himself to you.” 

“ I shall wait until he does so to give him his 
answer,” said Ernestine, quietly. 

“ Naturall}^’’ laughed Germaine, “ but you 
must know already what you would say to 
mamma if she came to you and told you that the 
master of Fougeray had asked her for your hand.” 

“ What would you say if he asked for yours ?” 
retorted Ernestine. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


59 


“ That is a nice way to try and evade my ques- 
tion. But I will be more frank than you, sister. 
If Mons. du Pourm^yal should giye me the pref- 
erence and ask me to marr}^ him, I should be very 
much embarrassed, indeed, for I have not any- 
thing against him, and I know thtit he would be a 
splendid match, but I do not love him. It would 
be a mercenary marriage. They say that such 
marriages are often very happy ones, but I don’t 
believe it ; still, if he asked me I would think of 
it ; I have not decided yet.” 

“ And neither have I,” said Ernestine. 

“ But you ought to decide, because you are the 
elder — oh !” she cried, suddenly, “ Ralph wants to 
go on, he is gnawing the bridle, my hands ache 
with holding him — I wish uncle would come. Do 
you see anything of him ? ” 

“No, he is still behind the oak. It was foolish 
of you, Germaine, to ride that horse.” 

“ Oh, nonsense, I am strong enough to hold 
him, and I would rather walk than ride that creat- 
ure you are on. Whip her up and I will let 
Ralph trot a little.” 

Ernestine made the attempt, but it was useless, 
the mare only quickened its pace a little and de- 
clined to trot. 


6o 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


The road was growing worse at almost every 
step, for the forest was on the side of a hill, the 
steep descent of which would have made it difficult 
for even a pedestrian to keep his footing. Beyond 
the forest was open ground, it is true, but it was 
hardly less dangerous to travel over, for it was 
one mass of mounds and furrows, the Lamon Rock 
being the culminating point. The j^oung girls were 
suddenly surprised to see before them heaps of 
rocks without end as far as the eye could reach, 
and huge blocks of stone scattered here and there 
as if uplifted and hurled along by some antedi- 
luvian cataclysm. 

Ernestine hastened to draw up her steed, who, 
indeed, displayed no impatience to investigate this 
formidable place, but Germaine’s horse plainly 
evinced by his behavior that he was going to do 
as he liked ; he advanced a few steps, sniffing the 
air with distended nostrils, then tried to take the 
bit between his teeth. 

Germaine held him until her arms ached, and 
then cried to Ernestine, laughingly — 

“ ‘ Sister Anne, sister Anne, do you see any one com- 
ing?' If uncle stands there on duty much longer 
Ralph will run away with me. I have a great 
mind to let him gallop a little, he is so restless.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


6l 


“ Oh, don’t,” said Ernestine, “ for we should 
never be able to overtake you ; besides, uncle is 
coining — I hear a noise ; hark !” 

“ Yes, but it is in the bushes ; Ralph hears it, too. 
I am afraid he is going to rear; I shall have to let 
him go.” 

The sound, which grew louder every moment, 
wasmot that of a horse, for it came from the copse 
as Germaine had said. The twigs crackled loudly, 
as if some animal were breaking through, and the 
horse, Ralph, starting to one side so suddenly that 
Germaine had the greatest difficulty to keep her 
seat, set off on a mad gallop down the rocky path- 
way. At the same instant a man sprang out of 
the copse and caught hold of the bridle of Ernes- 
tine’s mare. 

It was Roland Ferrer; bare-headed, his hair 
flowing about his face, and his eyes fixed on hers. 

“ Let go of my bridle,” she said, as calmly as 
she could, for the ardent gaze of this young Bo- 
hemian was, under the circumstances, anything 
but reassuring. 

He dropped the bridle at her command, but 
did not move an inch; and Ernestine, gathering 
courage, asked, with a frown of divspleasure — 
What do you mean by following us ?” 


62 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ It was only you I followed/' he answered, 
slowly. I did it for the pleasure of seeing you ; I 
do it every time you go out.” 

‘‘ If I had known that ” she began, hotly, 

but he interrupted her, saying — 

“ If you had known it you would have forbidden 
me to do it again ; that is why I concealed myself.” 

“ I forbid you now ; and what is more, Mons. 
Dandria will be here directly.” 

“ I have just escaped him,” said Roland, smiling, 
“ and I can do it again, but first I must speak to 
you, mademoiselle.” 

Ernestine was shaking with fright, for there 
were no signs of her uncle. Germaine was out of 
sight and hearing, and she, herself, was alone with 
this strange being. 

True, he was Doctor Sully 's prot^g^ and was 
supposed to have risked his life to save the Vigne- 
mals ; but, on the other hand, he was but a rover 
and outlaw, a creature who feared nothing, and 
knew no law but his own will. However it would 
not do to lose courage, and Ernestine Dandria had 
presence of mind and self-control sufficient at her 
command. 

“ If you wish to speak to me, why do you not 
come to La Geraldine ?” she asked, coldly. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


63 


“Because I would not be able to see you alone.” 

“ And what can you have to say to me in pri- 
vate ?” 

“ That I love you,” he answered, boldly. 

The blood rose to Ernestine’s iace at this auda- 
cious declaration, and indignation took the place 
of fear, for her woman’s instinct told her that she 
stood in no immediate danger, since she had to 
deal with a man who was as yet only sentimental. 

“ You? you f' she cried disdainfully, ''■you love 
me f 

“ Yes, madly !” he returned. 

“ You must indeed be mad to dare to speak to 
me like this — and you will repent your boldness, 
I assure you.” 

“ It is out of my power not to love you, and I 
only ask you to listen to me ; after that you can 
say what you choose ,but you must hear me ; I 
have been waiting three years for an opportunity 
to speak to you.” 

“ Three years she echoed “ why, I never knew 
of your existence until last night ; I never saw 
you before then in my life.” 

“ But I see you every day — while you are at La 
Geraldine. It is because you spend the Summer 
and Autumn here that I remain.” 


64 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I am very much flattered at your remaining-," 
she said, with a contemptuous smile, “ and I should 
be obliged to you if )’ou would tell me what you 
expect to gain by persecuting me in this way." 

“I expect nothing," he replied. 

“ What do you want, then ?" 

“ I want to obey you, as a dog obeys his master." 

“ Well, if you are so foolish, stay there while I 
go back to meet my uncle.’’ 

“ No, I have nothing more to say to you, so I 
will go ; but remember that I am your slave, and 
you have only to command me even if you want 
me to kill any one — " 

I do not desire the death of any one, I assure 
you,’' she replied. 

“ My own life is at your service. I exposed it 
yesterday to spare you a shock. 

“ Me?" she cried in astonishment. 

“ Yes, you. 1 hated the Vignemals, but I knew 
that they must be going to La Geraldine when 
they tried to cross the river, and I did my best to 
save them because I believed that their death 
would distress you." 

Ernestine did not reply for a moment ; for she 
was very much surprised and a little touched at 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 65 

the young man’s words ; and then she answered 
gently — 

“ You would have done better to prevent their 
going on the raft at all.” 

“ That is true,” he murmured, “ I did not think 
of you in time and this reply turned her 
thoughts suddenly in a different direction. She 
saw the young man before her and the accident 
of the preceding day in an entirely new light. 
She had not time to reflect on the matter, how- 
ever, for her uncle was approaching ; the horses* 
hoofs could be heard clattering on the loose 
stones, though a sharp turn in the road prevented 
her from seeing him. 

“ Go !” she said to Roland, “ I would not like 
• my uncle to find you here.” 

“ I am going,” he replied still keeping his eyes 
fixed adoringly upon her face, “ and I will not 
trouble you again with my presence until you call 
me. If you ever have need of me, put your lamp 
in your bed-room window at night, and then walk 
along the river-bank to the end of the hedge — ” 

“ How do you know which is my window?” she 
asked, without seeming to hav^e noticed that he 
had named a try sting-place. 

“ Because it was there that I first saw you,” he 


66 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


said, “and since then I have spent many a night 
looking toward it,” and as he stopped speaking 
he seized her gloved hand which held her riding- 
whip and pressed it to his lips, covering it with 
kisses, before she could prevent him. Then he 
bounded like a deer into the woods again, and the 
next minute Monsieur Dandria appeared. 

“The rascal has made his escape,” he said, un- 
conscious that the object of his search was sq near 
him, “ but I have put a stop to his following us, 
and I shall tell your mother that she is very fool- 
ish to let strange men live on her lands ; they will 
be coming into the garden next. But what ails 
you, child, you are so pale ?” 

Ernestine would doubtless have told him of 
her interview with Roland, but he suddenly 
missed Germaine and it was but natural that she 
should first answer his anxious inquiries. 

“Germaine could not hold Ralph any longer, 
he was so restless, and they have just gone off at 
full speed.” 

“ Good heavens !” he cried, “ and this is such a 
frightful road ; but she is very brave, and a good 
rider too ; I wonder, though, Ernestine, tfiat you 
did not follow her.” 

“ I could not ; the mare will not gallop.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


67 


“ And mine will not either, unfortunately, but 
we can trot, and as there is only one road to fol- 
low we will surely overtake her.” 

But he had reckoned without his host, for while 
he was speaking Germaine was galloping, sorely 
against her will, over a wild, rocky country which 
would have appalled the most inveterate fox 
hunter. 

The path ran down to the river-side after many 
abrupt turns; so Germaine, on seeing a cross-road 
leading up-hill^ turned her horse’s head in that 
direction, hoping that the long, steep ascent would 
soon exhaust him. She knew that Ralph was a 
wild, unmanageable beast, who had more than once 
come near breaking his young master’s neck; but 
these adventures had been confided by Albert 
Dandria to his younger sister only, and it had long 
been her highest ambition to test her horseman- 
ship on Ralph’s back. 

Now her one thought was to keep her seat, and 
it seemed as if she would succeed, for Ralph was 
beginning to slacken his pace a little, though he 
still kept on at a gallop. 

Unfortunately, however, the hill he was climb- 
ing was but the beginning of a gigantic rock stair- 
case formed by some volcanic upheaval, and 


68 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


between the ascents were deep ravines, whose 
steep sides were covered with bowlders of various 
sizes. 

What was Germaine’s dismay, then, on reach- 
ing the top of the first hill to see at her feet a 
frightful gorge I The road ran round the edge. 
Ralph took a deep breath and dashed along where 
a single mis-step, a single loose stone, would send 
horse and rider into the abyss. Germaine closed 
her eyes, but held the reins firmly. She was a 
girl of spirit in every sense of the word, and, 
though giddy and thoughtless on the surface, 
possessed more strength of character, more 
serious qualities, than she was herself aware of. 
Although twenty years of age she was still a child 
at heart, for the occasion had not yet presented 
itself for her to show of what she was capable. 
That occasion, to a young girl, is Love, of which 
Germaine could speak only by hearsay, for she 
had not yet bestowed her affections. 

She cared only for dancing and dress and 
music, and it seemed unlikely that she would ever 
care for anything else, though she looked on mar- 
riage as a thing that had to be — some time in the 
dim future ; she was in no hurry. Occasionally 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 69 

she would express herself on the subject, much to 
the amusement of her mother and uncle. 

“ I would like to have some one in love with 
me,” she said one day when no one was thinking 
of such matters. It was as if she had remarked — 

“ I would like to see Niagara Falls,” and the 
next minute she had forgotton all about it. 

She was nowhere so happy as at La Geraldine, 
where she often ran round the Park until she was 
out of breath, while her sister was quietly draw- 
ing under her mother’s directions ; and for three 
months she had been scheming by herself how to 
contrive to ride her brother’s horse. 

And now that she had succeeded in her designs 
she did not repent her folly, for her momentary 
fright having passed away she became fascinated 
by the sight of her own danger. There was a 
romance, loo, about it that delighted her, for she 
was being carried she knew not where — perhaps 
to an enchanted palace where she would meet 
Prince Charming himself ; an unknown land was 
certainly before her, and as the fresh breeze played 
about her and fanned her cheek, she felt that she 
had never lived till now. 

She could hear the running of a brook at the 
bottom of the gorge ; all round her lay huge 


70 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


blocks of granite as if thrown there by a Titan’s 
hand ; here and there rose a tall pine, a great black 
spot on the dull grey background, and on every 
side the eye was met by steep cliffs and yawning 
chasms. It seemed to Germaine that she had 
reached the end of the world. 

Suddenly Ralph, in one leap, reached the top 
of the steep rise, and the girl found herself on a vast 
table-land, the same wall of rock on her left hand, 
the deep ravine on her right, and before her a 
mass of heath stretching for at least three hundred 
yards, to where an immense rock rose in solitary 
grandeur. 

Ralph at once made toward this obstacle, and 
as the land continued to rise Germaine soon had 
the satisfaction of feeling that her steed was fast 
becoming exhausted ; and when he had reached 
the summit of the hill he stopped short, completely 
out of breath, and trembling in every nerve. 

His rider lost not a moment in springing to the 
ground, and she was too much delighted at find 
ing herself safe and sound to think of administer- 
ing any punishment, however well it might be de- 
served. On the contrary, she gathered a handful 
of ferns, and began rubbing down the heated an- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 7 1 

imal with as much zest as if she had been a groom 
by profession. 

That done, she laid her hand upon his neck and 
talked to him. “ Do you know, sir, that you have 
come very near killing me ? What will your mas- 
ter say to you when I tell him ?” 

Ralph looked at her earnestly, and then an- 
swered by a neigh of gratitude that made her 
smile. 

“ And now, how are we going to get home, do 
you think ?” she went on. I shall not trust my- 
self on your back again ; don’t think it ! I have a 
great mind to leave you here alone, and let the 
wolves eat you. But come, I will begin by tying 
you up, as if you were a restive pony.” 

Doubtless Ralph understood what she said to 
him, for he followed her meekly to a tree, where 
she tied him securely. “ Now, the question is,” 
she said to herself when the horse was disposed 
of, what am I going to do next. I do not feel at 
all inclined to stay here all night, but I cannot 
leave Ralph, for Alfred would make a terrible 
scene if I were to lose his horse. I could lead him 
home by the bridle if I were sure that I could find 
the way ; but then I forgot to drop pebbles as 1 


72 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


came along as the Princess in the fairy-tale did. I 
don’t know where I am at all.” 

She looked round her anxiously but in a mo- 
ment her face brightened again, and she said gaily. 

Why should I worry myself ? Ernestine will 
have told Uncle Armand of Ralph’s behavior, and 
they will have set out long ago to find me. They 
will be here before long, and meanwhile I can ad- 
mire the view.” 

She glanced up at the huge rock before her, 
adding, “ It is a perfect castle, turrets, battlements 
and all, I have never seen anything so natural — 
and that great cleft in the middle, why ! I believe, 
— can it be ? Yes, it is Lamon Rock itself ! Ralph 
must have known where I wanted to go !” 

She examined the rock with renewed interest, 
and then prepared to climb its steep side. 

“ I may as well amuse myself by completing my 
pilgrimage, and speaking into the fairies’ tunnel ; 
it will do no harm at all events, and besides, from 
the top of the rock I can see uncle and Ernestine 
coming all the sooner,” and v/ithout more delay 
she gathered up her long riding-skirt and began 
the steep ascent, and after a few minutes’ scram- 
ling reached the top, breathless and rosy. 

Here a lovely panorama met her astonished 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


73 


gaze — a wide, seemingly endless forest of venera- 
ble oaks, and at a short distance the gray towers 
of a castle peeping out among the tree-tops. 

“ The forest of Breteche and the Duke de 
Bretteville’s castle,” she murmured, after a mo- 
ment ; I had no idea 1 was so near it — how grand, 
how beautiful! How miserably small and mean 
La Geraldine seems compared to this lordly do- 
main.” 

She stood a moment wrapped in admiration, 
then turned away saying, “ If it were mine how 1 
would roam through that forest — but it is not mine 
and never will be, unless indeed the old duke 
takes it into his head to offer me his hand. But 
then I would not take such an old husband ; I 
want some one young, no matter whether he is 
rich or poor — and now the fairies shall tell me his 
name,” she added, laughing and going toward the 
magic spot. 

It occurred to her, however, to look in the di- 
rection she had come, to see whether her uncle 
and sister were not in sight, but there was no one 
to be seen, and indeed the high cliffs would have 
concealed any one who might be on the difficult 
path which she, or rather Ralph, had taken. Then 
for the first time she asked herself what she should 


74 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


do if her uncle did not comeat all; suppose he 
could not find her, and had followed some other 
road ? 

Should she be obliged to stay out here all night, 
or what would become of her ? She had never 
been so far from home alone ; the sky was clouding 
over and the dead silence of the place was op- 
pressive. Not even a bird’s note to be heard : not 
a living creature to be seen anywhere. And the 
yawning fissure in the rock had a strange, unearth- 
ly look. It was large enough to admit a man’s 
body, and it seemed as if a giant hand had cleft 
the rock from top to base. The girl looked down 
timidly ; all was inky blackness ; she could not see 
the bottom of the chasm, but near the top on a 
natural shelf of rock were bunches of dead flowers, 
faded ribbons, and brass finger-rings — votive offer- 
ings, no doubt, of village girls who had consulted 
the oracle and received favorable replies. 

Then Germaine felt ashamed of her fears, and 
half-believing in the legend of the rock, half curious 
to test its truth, she stooped forward and whis- 
pered into the hole, in a clear, distinct tone : 

Germaine !” 

A gust of cold wind in her face made her draw 
back suddenly, and then a deep sonorous voice 
from the depths of the chasm answered, “ Roger!” 


A DISPUTED INHERITAi^CE. 


7S 


CHAPTER IV. 

All the fun and laughter died out from the 
girl’s face at the sound, for it had nothing myste- 
rious or supernatural about it ; it was perfectly hu- 
man, a rich masculine voice ; and Germaine, with 
all her silly fancies, could not mistake the fact 
that it was a man of flesh and blood who had an- 
swered her. She turned to fly, but was only just 
in time to come face to face with the owner of the 
voice. 

It was by no means a terrible apparition after 
all ; a very tall, well-built young man in hunting 
garb, but without a gun, long, light moustaches 
and sun-burned face. On seeing Germaine he 
hastily took off his hat, and, bowing respectfully, 
showed a close-cropped head, and on the forehead 
a large scar which served to enhance his soldier- 
like appearance. 

He was evidently as much surprised as she was. 
He had not expected to meet a young woman in 
riding costume just then, but there was no awk- 
wardness in his manner when he addressed her. 


76 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE 


I beg pardon, mademoiselle, for having fright- 
ened you, but I was standing on the other side of 
the rock when you spoke, and thinking it was some 
credulous village girl, I could not resist the tempt- 
ation of mystifying her by answering. But I re- 
gret sincerely having alarmed you.” 

His tone was so frank and courteous that Ger- 
maine was reassured, and answered, smiling — 

I was a little frightened, I acknowledge, but 
as I was so foolish as to try the ‘ oracle,’ I de- 
served to be made game of.” 

“ Since you know the legend,” he replied, “ I 
need not repeat it to you. Only, I trust you will 
not accuse me of premeditating a little comedy. 
When I left Bretteville I could not dream that I 
should meet you here.” 

She smiled assent, and then asked suddenly — 

“ Do you live at Bretteville castle ?” 

“ For a short time only,” he replied. 

The Duke is a relation of yours ?” 

“No, indeed, but I was the friend and comrade 
of his son, who was killed at my side in Tunis.” 

“ Then your are an officer, monsieur ?” 

“ I was made sub-lieutenant three months ago. 
But allow me to ask,” he added, after a moment, 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 77 

^‘to what happy chance I owe the pleasure of this 
unexpected meeting.” 

Germaine knew that it was time she explained 
her being alone in this desolate place. 

“ I live near here,” she said, at “ La Geraldine, 
and we were out for a ride — my uncle, my sister, 
and myself — and my horse ran away with me and 
brought me to the foot of this rock.” 

“ Great heavens !” he cried, then you must 
have come along the side of the ravine, over a 
road that is fit only for goats to climb ; is it possi- 
ble that your horse did not stumble on the loose 
stones, and throw you headlong into the gorge?” 

‘‘ It seems not, for here I am,” she answered 
laughing, and Ralph is tied, down there on the 
heath ; I am afraid he is exhausted ; he will hardly 
be able to carry me home. I wish uncle would 
come.” 

‘‘ I think he is hardly likely to trust himself on 
that perilous road, and brave the dangers that you 
have—” 

“ In spite of myself,” she interrupted, “ it was 
Ralph, not I, who braved them, you know. But 
is there any other road ?” 

‘‘ Yes, ^here is one going in the opposite direc- 
tion. It is much longer, but much safer than the 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


78 

one you took. In all probability your uncle will 
come that way.” 

“ If he knows of the road, which I doubt,” she 
answered, thoughtfully. 

“ Well, whatever happens, mademoiselle, I beg 
of you not to attempt to return the way you came, 
it is risking your life, I assure you. And it will 
not do for you to wait here much longer, for I sbe 
sure signs of a change in the weather ; it would 
not be pleasant to be caught in a storm in this wild 
region.” 

“ What am I to do ?” asked Germaine becoming 
alarmed at his words, and looking at him doubt- 
ingly. 

His glance partly reassured her, for loyalty and 
candor seemed written in his eyes, and evidently 
he understood her doubts of him, for he answered 
gently : 

You are wrong to distrust me, mademoiselle; 
I have no wish but to be of service to you ; and I 
would content myself with showing you the right 
road if I did not think that you would lose your 
way before you went far. But if you will accept 
me as a guide I pledge my honor to leave you the 
moment you desire me to do so.” 

“ I thank you, sir,” stammered the girl, a little 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


79 


moved, and very much perplexed, “ but — but — 
I cannot leave iny horse here.” 

“ Certainly not ; he will carry you home, but if 
you take my advice you will keep him to a walk 
all the way ; I will accompany you on foot, and if 
necessary help you in managing your steed.” 

They both looked toward Ralph who was snort- 
ing impatiently, and pawing the ground as if 
anxious to be off, and the stranger exclaiming, “ I 
will go and get him,” started off before Germaine 
had time to make an objection. 

She remained standing on the enchanted rock, 
feeling very much embarrassed, and a little bit dis- 
turbed at the turn affairs had taken, and thinking 
that her adventure was ending in a more romantic 
manner than she had expected. 

“ But it will not be my fault,” she thought, “if 
I go home with a cavalier in attendance. Uncle 
Armand has evidently lost all trace of me, and I 
cannot be expected to stay here all night; it is 
going to rain, too. 

Besides that, this gentleman is the guest of the 
Duke of Bretteville, so he must be of good birth 
and breeding. Very likely he is a nobleman ; I 
shall present him to mamma, and Uncle Armand 
will be very glad of an excuse to call on the Duke 


8o A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

V 

SO as to get an invitation to hunt in Breteche for- 
est. It will turn out delightfully, I am sure.’' 

Her unknown friend appeared at this moment 
leading Ralph by the bridle and saying — 

I can answer for him that he does not run 
away again, for fatigue has completely calmed 
him ; he is in excellent condition just now, but to- 
morrow will want some care.” 

“ Oh, he will not be neglected,” cried the girl, 

he belongs to my brother, but I love him as much 
as if he were my own ; and now I love him more 
than ever since — since he has carried me safely 
through such a dangerous place.” 

She was covered with confusion at the admission 
she had nearly made, but got out of the difficulty 
as best she could, and if her hearer noticed her 
embarrassment he made no sign of having done 
so, but remarked thoughtfully : 

‘‘Since you are willing to let me direct you, 
mademoiselle, I think it is safest for you to 
walk down this slope, and I will lead your horse 
until we reach more level ground.” 

As they went slowly down the hill, Germaine 
said smiling — r 

“ You will think me very inquisitive, perhaps. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


8l 


but 1 am anxious to know how you happened to 
hear my voice — I spoke in a whisper.” 

“ It is easily explained,” he answered, “ that 
large cleft in the rock is crossed by another at 
right angles with it, which opens on the side of 
the rock like a speaking-tube, and as I happened 
to be leaning very near this opening, your name 
came straight to my ears. I could not see you, of 
course, and the idea struck me to do as the village 
lads do when their sweethearts come to Lamon 
Rock. It is time, though, that I presented myself 
to you, mademoiselle, in a more serious guise — 
Roger Pontac, sub-lieutenant of the Ninth Hus- 
sars,” and he raised his hat as he spoke. 

“ Roger Pontac,” she repeated ; “ where have I 
heard the name before?” 

“ It is not likely that you have ever heard me 
spoken of,” he answered ; “ there is no one about 
here who would remember me. I told you my 
name merely as a matter of form, which, by the 
way, I should have thought of sooner ; pray par- 
don my oversight.” 

“ Why, you did introduce yourself, even be- 
fore you had seen me,” cried the girl, laughing, 
“ though you only told me half your name, but 


82 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


that was all I could expect at Lamon Rock, yon 
know.” 

You want to remind me of my offence, Made- 
moiselle. I had hoped you had forgiven me.” 

“ And I have done so, Monsieur Pontac,” she 
answered ; “ is not the fact of my taking you as my 
guide sufficient proof of that?” 

This is the road that leads to La Geraldine,” 
he said, as they left the steep descent and set foot 
on a good level road at last, “ we have no time to 
lose, for the sky grows blacker every minute ; 
allow me, Mademo-iselle Dandria, to help you into 
your saddle.” 

Germaine, after a moment’s hesitation, put her 
tiny foot into the young officer’s hand and sprang 
lightly on to Ralph’s back. The sagacious beast 
raised his head suddenl)' as she touched the sad- 
dle, but made no attempt to move till she was 
ready ; it was as if he wished to tell her that he 
would carry her safely home without a repetition 
of his previous misconduct. 

“ I cannot bear the idea of your following Ralph 
on foot,” she said as the young man arranged her 
stirrup, “ he takes such a long step, you will be 
tired to death.” 

“ Never fear,” he answered, “ I spent my child- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


83 


hood running about the woods of Breteche, and, 
though lately I have been accustomed to the 
cavalry service, I would gladly run ten miles as 
your escort.” 

“You were born in this neighborhood,” she 
said, without seeming to notice the compliment, 
nor the warmth of the tone in which it was 
uttered, “ you belong in Arcy, perhaps?” 

“No, I was born on a farm of the Duke de 
Bretteville’s, a farm which my father worked, and 
at twelve years of age I went to a college, in 
Paris.” 

Germaine was silent, for she was filled with 
astonishment to hear that this man with all the 
bearing of a gentleman was only a farmer’s son. 
But the discover}^ did not grieve nor disappoint 
her, for she knevv that her mother would receive 
him cordiall}^ for he was well educated, and had 
he not won his epaulettes by his own merit only? 

“You see I have no difficulty in keeping up 
with you,” he said, after a pause; “that comes of 
having early learned to use one’s legs. I would 
prefer, however, to be on horseback and riding at 
your side.” 

“ I hope we shall often have the pleasure of see- 
ing you at La Geraldine,” she said, cordially ; “ my 


84 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


mother will never be able to thank jou enough 
for the service you have rendered me.” 

Indeed, mademoiselle, it is I who must thank 
you for having trusted yourself in my care,” he 
replied, evasively ; and Germaine, surprised at his 
evident hesitation, said quickly — 

“You will come, will you not?” 

“ I dare not make any promise,” he answered 
with an air of embarassment. 

“ Why not?” she insisted. 

“ Because — because I am about to leave the 
country. I am going back to my regiment in 
Tunis. I am here on a short leave only.” 

“ But you have a few days, at least.” 

“ And I have taken a resolution to call on no 
one, for it is ten years since I was here before ; and 
if I go about much people will recognize me, and 
then I shall be blamed if I do not visit everyone. 
I have relations here whom I do not wish to see, 
nor to have them know even of my being here. 
That is the reason I keep myself so close ; no one 
but the Duke knows of my presence in this coun- 
try.” 

“ But there is no one in La Geraldine who 
will act the spy ” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 85 

“ No, but my relations are your nearest neigh- 
bors. Fougeray is the next place to yours.” 

‘‘Fougeray !” cried Germaine, astonished, “that 
IS Madame Vignemal’s estate.” 

“ Precisely, and Madame Vignemal is my 
cousin.” 

“ Oh, dear me !” said the girl in dismay. 

“ That surprises you, does it not?” he said, 
“for Madame Vignemal is very rich, and I have 
nothing but my pay. And it is jnst for that reason 
that I do not wish to see her ; we quarreled years 
ago and if 1 come back to her now she will think 
that I am watching for her fortune, and I do not 
choose to expose myself to any such suspicions.” 

Germaine had it on the tip of her reckless 
tongue to tell him of the accident which had just 
befallen his relation, but she stopped herself and 
thought— 

“ What a sad recollection he would have of our 
first meeting, if I were the one to inform him that 
his cousin had met a violent death, and had more- 
over disinheritea him and left her fortune to her 
husband! No, I shall say nothing about it; he 
will hear it soon enough, for it will not take long 
for the news to reach Bretteville castle.” 

“ It will cost me dear, I assure you,” he said in 


86 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


a voice which proved the sincerity of his words, 

to give up all chance of seeing you again ; but I 
shall never forget that I have seen you, and I shall 
often visit Lamon Rock.” 

“You will never meet me there,” replied Ger- 
maine, “ I am not likely to be trusted on horse- 
back again for a long time to come. They will 
wonder when I tell them my adventure why you 
keep aloof ; perhaps my uncle will doubt the truth 
of what I say.” 

Roger Pontac started and looked at her earn- 
estly, and Germaine saw that she had hit on the 
best argument to make him yield; the thought 
that he might be the cause of her getting into 
trouble put an. end to his hesitation. 

“ Since you desire it, mademoiselle, I will call 
at La Geraldine,” he said. 

‘‘To-day?” she asked, and, as she did not re- 
ply, she added earnestly, “ if you will come to 
my mother now, it will be the easiest thing in 
the world to explain matters. Why not be frank 
about it? You have done nothing to be ashamed 
of ; quite the contrary, indeed, and your absence 
will appear very strange, as you have no sufficient 
reason for ” 

“ I have a reason,” he said, suddenly, and I won- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 87 

der very much at your not having discovered it. 
You know that I am '' 

“ I know that you are an officer in the army 
that is fighting the Arabs, and that the Duke de 
Bretteville receives you as his guest ; that is more 
than sufficient.” 

The lieutenant, to her great surprise, made no 
reply, and neither spoke again until they arrived 
at the foot of a long ascent. 

“ When we get to the top of this hill,” he said, 
slowly, “ you will see the trees of La Geraldine, 
and it will be impossible for you to lose your way, 
for this road leads straight to your gates.” 

“ And you are going to leave me ?” she cried. 

“ I must,” he answered, “ and you will acknowl- 
edge that I am right when you have heard my 
confession. You ask my reason for wishing to 
take a final leave of you, and I cannot tell you a 
falsehood ; it is, that Roger Pontac who has no 
name, no family,, no fortune, is not the equal of 
Mademoiselle Dandria.” 

“ I do not understand you,” said Germaine. 

If 1 were once to enter your home I should 
not have the prudence to refrain from going there 
again,” he said, “ and by seeing you often I would 


88 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


only be preparing for myself a host of bitterest 
regrets.” 

“ I understand you less and less,” she said, 
slowly, 

“ Do you not understand that I am afraid of 
falling in love?” he asked in a low tone, and the 
girl, turning suddenly pale, grasped the reins con- 
vulsively and told herself that the danger of losing 
her way was not the only one to be considered. 

“ Do not be afraid,” said her companion, before 
she had decided what course to take, I have said 
my say, and have only to ask your pardon for my 
boldness.” 

“ You did not know,” he added in a lighter tone, 
“ that a lieutenant of hussars would take such 
pains to escape an attack upon his heart did 
you ?” 

He spoke gayly, but the expression in his eyes 
belied his smile, and Germaine, seeing that his 
gay air was affected for the purpose of reassuring 
her, said to herself — 

“ He would love me as I should like to be 
loved.” 

After a moment he spoke again. 

I was sure that when you had heard me you 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 89 

would be ready to bid me go; and now, it is time 
for me to say farewell.” 

“ And you take back your promise to come to 
La Geraldine !” she cried ; and then added in a 
tone of frank friendliness, “Come now, Lieutenant 
Pontac, this is nonsense; pure childishness. Con- 
sider ; we are not characters in a romance ; you 
have been good enough to show me the way home, 
when, without your aid, I should have been 
obliged to pass the night in the open air. Is it not 
natural that this accidental circumstance should 
lead to your becoming a visitor at my house while 
you remain in this country? If you persist in 
^ being so unneighborly I shall think that I have in- 
spired you with an antipathy, and your obstinacy 
will not avail you either, for my uncle will call on 
you to thank you for your politeness to me, and 
you will be obliged to return his call. You will 
be received in a cordial, friendly way and you will 
go away as free-hearted as you came.” 

“ I will try,” said Pontac, sighing ; “ I would 
give my life to serve you, so I need not grudge my 
peace of mind.” 

“ I shall expect you,” she answered, “ not to- 
day, for that might look as if you came to get a 


90 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


reward far bringing back a lost article ; but after 
to-day I shall expect you at any moment/' 

The lieutenant of hussars bowed low without 
speaking and turned back, and Germaine con- 
tinued her way, not once looking round. She was 
delighted. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


91 


CHAPTER V. 

Arcy was one of the dullest of provincal towns. 
Mons. Dandria had made the greatest efforts 
to rouse the people into something like gayety, 
but had succeeded only with the younger half of 
the population ; the older people would not stir. 

Devoted to their old habits and prejudices the 
inhabitants of Arcy resented all innovations ; they 
dined at noon, seldom read the newspapers, pre- 
tended to look down upon Parisians, and took as 
much interest in literature and politics as a fish 
might take in a flower. 

Their only pleasure was economy ; their one 
idea of happiness, their one object in life, was to die 
rich. Consequently, they thought of and talked 
about nothing but money, and passed a large part 
of their time in calculating the amount of each 
other’s wealth ; and any one who did not pinch 
and save was looked upon as, almost a criminal, 
and his speedy ruin predicted. To mortgage prop- 
erty, even for the purpose of buying more, was 


92 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


considered the depth of viciousness, and running 
into debt was not a whit better than stealing. 

Still, these people had their excuse. They had 
nothing else in life to do but to slander and to 
save, for Arcy was a community made up of An- 
nuitants who looked upon commerce and manufact- 
ures with supreme contempt. 

In the principal street, the Rue Nationale, the 
people walked along slowly and sedately, as if 
they were counting the paving-stones; they were 
never in any haste and seldom talked as they went, 
for they had no ideas to exchange with each other. 
The shop-keepers stood in their door- ways yawn- 
ing lazily ; the very houses seemed to be tired and 
sleepy, and if the town-hall clock had stopped go- 
ing, no one would have noticed the fact — it mat- 
tered so little to the people of Arcy what the time 
of day might be. But when any startling news 
broke out, any local scandal or other sensational 
disturbance, the town woke suddenly from its tor- 
por, and was all eagerness to discuss and wonder. 
The drowning accident at La Geraldine threw the 
whole town into the liveliest excitement; the peo- 
ple stopped in the streets and shops to talk it over, 
to argue out the case in all its details, to hint mys- 
teriously that the Vignemals’ death was no accident 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


93 


at all, or to calculate the chances of young du 
Fourmeval becoming the heir of his aunt-by-mar- 
riage. 

The details of the lady’s will were very gener- 
ally known, so Arthur du Fourmeval was watched 
with eager curiosity whenever he left his house. 
His first visit was to Doctor Sully, as was quite 
natural, for the two bodies had been taken out of 
the river at some distance from La Geraldine and 
the Doctor had been summoned to examine them. 

The Doctor lived in the quietest street of the 
quiet town. His house was small and his one do- 
mestic had formerly been sutler of his regiment. 
She was a good cook and knew, moreover, how to 
harness a horse. 

At two o’clock in the afternoon the Doctor was 
seated in his office. It was finished in walnut ; the 
leather-covered arm-chair had, like its owner, seen 
twenty years of service ; the black-marble clock 
dated from the reign of Louis- Philippe ; number- 
less shelves laden with books, a table, and four 
cane-seat chairs completed the decoration of this 
sanctum. 

It was not a handsome room ; no valuable paint- 
ings adorned the walls, no expensively - framed 
engraving pf Hypocrates refusing the presents of 


94 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Artaxerxes : and yet the last would not have been 
inappropriate, for Doctor Sully ’s benevolence and 
disinterestedness were well known. 

He never asked a fee from the poor, and as to 
his wealthy patients he was satisfied with what- 
ever they chose to offer him. As a consequence 
he was the most generally beloved person in the 
place, and he enjoyed, besides, the reputation of 
superior intelligence and good sense, so that his 
advice and opinion w^ere often asked on matters 
not concerning the medical profession. 

To-day, as was frequently the case, his visitor 
was not a patient, but in fact the picture of health 
and spirits, being no other than Mons. Lestrigon, 
the president of the court of Arcy, the most im- 
portant personage in the whole town, and a man 
of unusual discernment and intelligence. 

The Doctor and his guest were seated opposite 
each other, discussing the topic of the day, the 
accident on the Beuvron. 

So you are quite sure that these people were 
drowned?” asked the Judge. 

‘.‘Absolutely,” returned the Doctor, “ there was 
not the slightest sign of violence to be seen. It 
is true that the body of Mme. Vignemal has sus- 
tained a few bruises ; but, as it had been caught 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


95 


in the roots of a willow, they are easily accounted 
for. I made an autopsy of the bodies and am 
ready to affirm positively that they were alive 
when they fell into the water ; drowning was the 
cause of the death, and I do not see why the pros- 
ecutor should have insisted on such formal pro- 
ceedings as he did ; they were entirely unneces- 
sary.” 

‘‘ He suspects that a crime has been committed,” 
said the other. 

“ Yes, he told me thkt he had suspicions of the 
lad who lives in the woods of Fougeray and La 
Geraldine, but he makes a mistake. I will answer 
for Roland Ferrer.” 

He is nothing more than a vagabond.’’ 

“ That is true, but he has many good qualities, 
and is perfectly straightforward. He was ex- 
amined and cross-examined on this matter and 
finally dismissed. Besides, he came to Fougeray 
of his own accord, when he might easily have made 
off, and been fifteen miles away before morning.” 

** That may have been policy on his part.” 

But what possible motive could he have had 
for such a crime ?” asked the Doctor, “ the Vigne- 
mals’ death does not benefit him in the least.” 

“ Not directly, but Mme. Vignemal’s poor re- 


g6 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

lations may be very materially benefited by it. 
Proabably this Bohemian is acquainted with some 
of these people who live in this neighborhood.” 

And do you suppose that they hired Roland 
Ferrer to commit the murder? Why, they have 
no money, and he, moreover, has no use for it; he 
despises it, and you will admit that he would 
hardly do such a deed to oblige a friend.” 

“ Well, I do not accuse your protege. Doctor ; I 
merely want to give every idea due consideration, 
for the question of suspicion will arise and I shall 
be called upon to decide it.” 

“ I thought that there was no doubt that Mons. 
du Pouimeval would inherit.” 

‘‘The-’e is a very grave doubt, for he will have 
to prove positively that his uncle survived his 
aunt, since Mons. Vignemal himself inherited only 
in virtue of his wife’s will.” 

‘‘Oh, dear! poor Arthur!” said the Doctor, 
sadly. 

“His case is not hopeless,” said the Judge, “ he 
can get a lawyer to work it up, and that is just 
where this Roland’s veracity will be called in 
question. For instance, if he states that Mme. 
Vignemal was still breathing when he drew her 
on to the bank — ’’ 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


97 


But he declared to me that she was not,” cried 
the Doctor, ‘‘ he described the appearance of the 
body and I am positive that she was dead. It is 
more than probable, too, that she died before her 
husband did.” 

“ How so. Doctor?” 

“ Because she was much more courageous and 
energetic than her husband, and most likely made 
efforts to save herself when precipitated into the 
river, and by that means caused the water to enter 
the bronchi, which would produce suffocation in 
about thirty seconds. Mons. Vignemal on the 
contrary was half dead with fright when the boat 
capsized, and would be unconscious, in which state 
he could live for a half-hour under water. The 
effect of the fainting would be that the respira- 
tory organs would cease to act for a certain time, 
during which the want of air would not be fatal.” 

‘‘ I cannot contest these scientific hypotheses, I 
admit, but how do you know that the husband 
was paral3^zed with fright while the wife pre- 
served her presence of mind ?” 

Roland said so ; he saw it all.” 

• “ Roland certainly played an important part in 

the tragedy — ” 

“ He behaved very courageously,” said Doctor 


98 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Sully, warmly, “ and it is not his fault that he 
could not save the unfortunate pair. He was 
swimming toward them when he saw the husband 
sitting on the raft completely unnerved, and Mme. 
Vignernal standing up beginning to undress. 
Doubtless she intended to try to swim, but the 
boat capsized at that moment.” 

That is what this fellow says, but who knows 
that he had not himself half severed the rope of 
the ferry ?” 

“ That supposition is absurd, my friend ; for how 
could he have known that the Vignemals were 
going to cross that evening?” And besides, he 
knows nothing of the law and could not foresee 
the question of succession.” 

“ Certainly not, and perhaps that was the very 
'reason Avhy he pulled out of the river the wife 
and not the husband. Probably he threw her in 
again when he found that she was not dead.” 

“ But he would have said that she was not dead ; 
he would have cried it from the house-tops if his 
motives were such as you accuse him of. Would 
he not have been too glad to prove that she sur- 
vived if he were in the employ of her relations?” 

“Well, perhaps he thinks that the time to tell 
what he knows has not 3"et come.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


99 


“The Roland Ferrer that I know is incapable ot 
such policy and craft,” said the Doctor, with an 
air of conviction, “ he might kill a man in the heat 
of passion, but to premeditate a murder is not in 
his nature.” 

“ My dear Doctor,” said the Judge, after a few 
minutes silence, “ I have absolute confidence in 
your discretion, and I will prove it by telling you 
what is in my mind at this instant. I hear that 
there is now in this neighborhood a person who 
disappeared some years ago — a cousin of Mme. 
Vignemals.” 

“ Can it be that little Roger?” 

“ Yes, Roger Pontac, son of a poor fellow who 
farmed some land belonging to the Duke de 
Bretteville.” 

“ I know him very well — that lad Roger,” said 
the Doctor; “a remarkably intelligent fellow; I 
took a great interest in him, and went to visit him 
several times at St. Louis’ College, where he was 
studying at Mme. Vignemal’s expense. I was 
deeply grieved to hear that he had run away ; but 
his cousin insisted on his following a profession 
for which he had no taste, and he was not willing 
to live on charity, so he went off unexpectedly 


lOO 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE 


and I afterward heard that he had enlisted. 
That was his true vocation.’’ 

And you say he is in Arc}^ again ?” 

“ No, not in Arcy, but in the neighborhood. 
The gardener of Fougeray saw him looking at the 
house, but the young gentleman went away when 
he found he was observed.” 

That is strange,” said the Doctor, musingly ; 

he has nothing to be afraid of here ; his cousin 
was not angry with him, and, though he might not 
have had a very warm reception, he would not 
have been shown the door, I am sure. 

“ I wonder, too, that he has not been to see me ; 
we were such very good friends.” 

‘‘ He is not likely to trouble you, Doctor ; rest 
assured of that. Perhaps he has decamped by 
this time, but he will be brought back again.” 

“ Then your sage attorney thinks that Roger 
Pontac has come here expressly to conjure with 
Roland Ferrer against the life of his rich rela- 
tion ?” 

“ That is his idea, whatever it may be worth.” 

“Very little, in my humble opinion, for Roger 
Pontac has never seen Roland in his life ; and, be- 
sides that, Roland, though a poacher, a vagabond, 
an outlaw, so to speak, is not an assassin. For 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


lO 1 


Roger Pontac I cannot answer so positively, as 1 
have not seen him for ten years ; but when I knew 
him he was upright and manly ; impulsive, it is 
true, but his impulses were always good ones. It 
is impossible that those two should have con- 
spired together.” 

“ Perhaps you are right, Doctor ; but let us 
drop this painful subject; I broached it for the 
purpose of learning all I could from )^ou about 
this Roland.” 

“ Let us talk about Arthur du Pourmeval then, the ' 
other heir. Do you think he is likely to inherit?” 

“ I cannot give my opinion on that matter, Doc- 
tor ; but I will tell you one thing — ^justice will not 
be satisfied with the statements of such a doubtful 
character as Roland Ferrer; he might even affirm 
that Mme. Vignemal had spoken to him when he 
drew her out of the water; it would not have 
much weight.” 

“ I am delighted to hear you say that!” cried 
the Doctor, “ for Arthur himself is satisfied that 
the fortune is his.” 

“ And he will soon make away with it, I fancy.” 

I thought so, too, until he came to me this 
morning with his plans for the future. His follies 
will now end, I trust.” 


102 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“A wedding-, perhaps.” 

“ That I am not at liberty to disclose ; it is a se- 
cret, but will soon be known all over Arcy. 

Here the door opened and Jeannette, the ex- 
sutler, entered with a card for the Doctor. 

‘‘ A patient ; I am going,” said Mons. Lestrigon, 
rising from his chair, while Doctor Sully, glanc- 
ing at the name on the vesiting-card, was as- 
tounded on seeing the words Roger Pontac. 

Oh there is no hurry,” he said, at last, and 
then, turning to his servant, said : 

Show the gentleman into the parlor, and say I 
shall see him in a minute ; ” and he put the card 
hastily into his pocket, having no desire to show 
it to his friend, the Judge. 

The latter had already buttoned his coat and 
now took leave of the Doctor, who lost no time in 
summoning Jeannette to show in the other visitor. 

The next minute Roger Pontac entered the of- 
fice, and Doctor Sully was struck dumb with sur- 
prise on seeing him. 

The little, thin, pale lad, clad in a suit of clothes 
a size too small for him, had become a tall, strong, 
handsome man, attired in a black overcoat of the 
latest fashion. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. I03 

‘‘You do not know me, Doctor?” said the new- 
comer smiling. “ Am I then so changed?” 

“Yes, lad, changed for the better!” cried the 
Doctor, admiringly ; “you are splendid — what a 
fortune you must have made ! What profession 
did you choose ?” 

“Have you not looked at my card?” asked 
Roger Pontac. 

“I only saw your name on it, and that as- 
tonished me so — why it is ten years since I saw 
you last. But I have your card, and since you do 
not wish to announce your quality,” and the Doc- 
tor, taking the card from his pocket, exclaimed, as 
he glanced at it, Sub-lieutenant of the 9th hus- 
sars’ — is it possible! You are an officer?” 

“ I was promoted three months ago,” replied 
the young man ; “ and, as I enlisted in 73, you can 
s6e that I have not lost any time.” 

“ Good !” exclaimed the Doctor, his face beam- 
ing with delight; “ you have won your epaulettes 
in eight years’ time ; you, with no influence, no 
family, no money. Ah, I always knew you would 
make your mark ; give me your hand, Roger Pon- 
tac!” 

The young officer grasped and shook warmly 
the two out-stretched hands of his friend, and 


104 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


then the Doctor led him to the very chair where 
a minute before had sat the magistrate who had 
no opinion of Mme. Vignemals poor relations. 

“ I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you 
again/’ exclaimed the Lieutenant, making no at- 
tempt to conceal his emotion ; “ I have never for- 
gotten how you used to visit me at college, where 
I was so friendless and alone, especially during 
the long vacation.” 

That is all very well, my lad, but why have 
you given no sign of life all these years ? I have 
only just heard of your return, and indeed I 
scarcely believed the news.” 

“ I made a vow not to show myself here until I 
had repaired my faults by rising from the ranks 
and winning promotion,” returned Pontac ; “ that 
was my great ambition; I was in Tunis when I 
received the news, and I did not lose a minute in 
asking for leave of absence. I did not dream that 
I should be just in time to hear the news of my 
cousin’s death — and such a death !” 

“ How did you know of it ? Have you been to 
Fougeray ?” 

No, Doctor, I did not dare, though wanted 
to see my cousin; she brought me up and 1 was 
not ungrateful, but I feared that she would not 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 105 

receive me. Once I even went as far as the 
gates, but had not the courage to ring. I had 
reason to hesitate, too, for the day after I received 
news of my promotion I had written to my 
cousin Vignemal explaining my long silence, and 
begging her to forget the past and to let me see 
her on my return to France. She took no notice 
of my letter.” 

** Good !” said the Doctor, thoughtfully ; that 
letter may perhaps be found and it will prove — 
but where are you living, Roger?” 

“ At Bretteville Castle,” he replied. 

“ With the Duke ? How do you happen to be 
entertained by this grand lord, who looks down 
upon the people of Arcy ?” 

“ I owe the honor to a very sad circumstance. 
His son, who was lieutenant of my squadron, was 
killed at my side when we were charging the en- 
emy, and it was in defending him that I received 
this sabre-cut. I could not save his life, but I suc- 
ceeded in rescuing his body from the Arabs, and I 
brought to his bereaved father his medal of the 
Legion of Honor.” 

“That was well done, Roger — very well done, 
and proves that I was right in calling you a per- 
son of good impulses.” 


Io6 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

Has any one asserted the contrary ?” asked 
Roger Pontac, smiling. 

“ No, no, let us talk of something else ; I can 
understand your not wishing to go to Fougeray, 
but why did you not come to see me 

“ I should have been recognized in Arcy, and 
my cousin would have had reason to be offended 
at my coming to you ; but there is no fear of that 
now, since the poor woman is dead. That is why 
I am here now. I have come to claim your 
friendship and counsel.” 

My friendship you have already, and my 
advice is awaiting you. But surely it is not about 
your health that you want to consult me. You 
do not look it.” 

‘‘ No, I have not spent twenty-four hours in the 
hospital since I entered the service. I want to 
ask you how I ought to act under these sad cir- 
cumstances. Everyone knows that Mine. Vigne- 
mal had withdrawn her protection from me.” 

“ But that is no reason why you should not 
attend her funeral, which will take place to-mor- 
row. You must be there.” 

“ I will. Doctor ; and there will be no hypocrisy 
on my part for I am sincerely grieved at her 
death.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


107 


After a pause, Doctor Sully said : 

“ I suppose you know that your cousin left all 
her money, by will, to her husband.’’ 

No, did she?” asked Roger, indifferently. 

“Yes, indeed; her fortune will probably go to 
Mons. Vignemals nephew, Arthur du Pourme- 
val.” 

“ What, little Pourm^val, who was always 
dressed to within an inch of his life when the 
other boys of his age were climbing trees and 
tearing their clothes? Well, so much the better; 
he will probably spend the money on his toilette; 
Mons. Vignemal’s fortune will be very useful to 
him.” 

“ But it is your cousin’s fortune that Pourmeval 
will inherit, and you are the loser by his luck.” 

“ I was her heir, then ?” asked Roger, simply. 

“ Yes, heir to a part of her fortune ; but indeed 
even a part of it is worth regretting ; she leaves be- 
tween two and three millions, and there are not 
more than six or seven of you to'inherit.” 

“ My word ! I thought she had much nearer 
relations than I am ; or rather I never troubled 
myself to discover who w^ere her heirs; but indeed 
I do not regret the money ; my pay is quite suffi- 
cient for me.” 


Io8 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

At present, yes, but one of these days, when 
you are a superior officer, you will want to marry 
the woman of your choice — and what is more, my 
friend, your relations will not relinquish their 
claim without a struggle ; they will go to law 
against du Pourmeval.” 

“ They will do it without my help, then,” said 
Pontac, quietly. 

“Do you mean to say that you will make no 
effort at all in the matter?” 

“ Certainly I do. I should look well, should I 
not, a lieutenant of hussars, running about after 
lawyers and magistrates! I shall go back to 
Africa.” 

‘^You are just what I thought you would he,” 
said the Doctor, looking at him in deep admira- 
tion,’’ self-reliant, independent. My dear boy, rely 
on me ; I am your friend. I shall always be ready 
to serve you.” 

“And I have at this moment a favor to ask of 
you, my kind friend,’’ said Pontac, smiling. 

“What is it; what can I do for you?” 

“ Give me an introduction to Mons Dandria 
whose sister-in-law bought La Geraldine ten years 
ago.” 

“ Nothing could be easier, for I am their med- 


I 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


109 


ical adviser; but what do you know of Mons. 
Dandria?” 

“I have never seen him in my life, and that is 
just why I require an introduction. I have a 
message for him from the Duke.’’ 

'VFrom the Duke?” 

'‘ Yes, he has heard that Mons. Dandria is very 
fond of sport; so he wishes to invite him to shoot 
in Bretache Forest. He would carry his invita- 
tion himself were it not for his being in mourning 
for his son. He sees no one but myself who can 
talk to him of poor Henry.” 

“ It is very gracious of the old Duke to think of 
Mons. Dandria, especially as he does not culti- 
vate the people here at all. It is fortunate you 
happened in to-day, for I have business at La Ger- 
aldine and you can accompany me and be pre- 
sented to the family.” 

'' You are sure it is convenient to you, Doctor?” 

" Oh, perfectly ; I told Jeannette to have the 
carriage ready at three; so if you will wait here a 
few minutes I will go and change my clothes. 
Have a cigar while you wait,” and the Doctor left 
the room as he spoke. 

Roger Pontac, on being left to his own reflec- 
tions, first congratulated himself on having found 


no 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


his old friend unchanged in his affection, and then 
thought with delight that he should that day see 
Germaine Dandria. He had not confided to 
the Doctor that the Duke’s message was not the 
only motive for his desiring an introduction at La 
Geraldine ; but the truth was, that on his return 
to the Castle the day before the Duke had at once 
perceived that something had occurred to agitate 
his guest, and Roger had confided to him his 
adventure at Lamon Rock. 

To his surprise, the Duke, after listening with 
fatherly interest to the young man’s recital, advised 
him to go at once and call at La Geraldine without 
troubling himself as to what the consequences 
might be, and moreover furnished him with a pre- 
text for the visit. Roger was only too glad to 
follow the advice of his friend, but hesitated as to 
whether he should speak of his accidental meeting 
with Miss Dandria, the day before, and at last, de- 
ciding to be guided by her own conduct on seeing 
him, he went to the stable to order a horse, and 
here he first learned the news of the accident at 
the ferry. 

No one at the castle knew of the young officer’s 
relationship to Mme. Vignemal, and he took care 
not to enlighten them, and after long considera- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


1 1 1 


tion determined to go to Doctor Sully for ad 
vice as to what course he ought to follow, under 
•the circumstances. On the way it occurred to 
him to ask the Doctor to introduce him at La 
Geraldine, and now that his desire was about 
to be accomplished he felt that a turning-point in 
his life was reached. 

Heaven itself had placed in his pathway a 
woman whom he would not have dared to ap- 
proach under more ordinary circumstances, and 
his heart bounded with delight at the thought 
that she herself had exacted of him a promise to 
see her again. 

He was walking the floor impatiently when the 
Doctor returned, dressed in his best, and saying, 
smilingly, “ You can see by my appearance that 
I am bound on an errand of unusual importance. 
This is not an ordinary professional or friendly 
visit.” 

Pontac looked surprised, and the Doctor went 
on — 

“ Yes, I am going on a very delicate mission — 
in short to ask the hand in marriage of one of 
Mme. Dandria’s daughters.” 

At this unexpected announcement Roger Pon- 
tac turned suddenly pale, while the Doctor added 


II2 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


with a laugh, “ not for myself, you know !” and 
then, seeing for the first time the change in his 
hearer’s face, he cried, “ why Roger, you look as 
if you had heard some bad news ! Are you ill ?” 

“ I ?” stammered the lieutenant, ‘‘ no, it is noth- 
ing, I assure you ; only this room is very warm, I 
think.” 

'‘Yes, indeed ; Jeannette likes to make fires fit 
to roast an ox, as if I were still bivouacking in 
the mountains of Kabylia; that is it. What in- 
terest should you take in the prospects of two 
young ladies whom you have never seen?” 

“ Not the slightest ; of course, but. Doctor, I am 
afraid I will be an intruder on this occasion. 
You will not want a third in your matrimonial 
conversation with Mme. Dandria.” 

He forced a smile as he spoke, but the Doctor 
answered quickly : 

“ No, I shall not ask you to be present at our 
tete-a-tete, but you can amuse yourself very well 
without me. There is no formality at La Ger- 
aldine, and when you have delivered your mes- 
sage you will be free to do just as you like. 
Walk around the grounds, and talk to Mons. 
Dandria and the young ladies. The latter are 
lively and intelligent, and very pretty.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. II3 

Roger tried in vain to raise some objection ; 
it was impossible ; how could he decline this in- 
troduction after having himself requested it? By 
insisting he might rouse the Doctor’s suspicions 
as to the real -cause of the sudden change in his 
sentiments ; and besides that, were there not two 
Miss Dandrias? One of them was to receive an 
offer of marriage, but which he could not say ; and, 
moreover, would she accept ? 

His meditations were interrupted by the Doctor 
saying that the carriage was ready, it was time 
they set out. * 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


II4 


CHAPTER VI. 

In a few minutes they were driving through 
the Rue Nationale, and the passers stared curi- 
ously at the new comer. The direction in which 
they were going showed that the Doctor and his 
friend were bound for La Geraldine ; evidently, 
then, the stranger was a suitor for the hand of one 
of the young ladies. The news spread from 
mouth to mouth, and before very long all Arcy 
knew it, but no one recognized in the handsome 
stranger the little Roger Pontac who used to play 
about the Fougeray woods in blouse and sabots. 

This road must be very familiar to you,” said 
the Doctor, as they neared La Geraldine. 

“Yes, I can see the tops of the old trees in the 
park. I used to play there every day when the 
place was unoccupied ; I could go all over it 
blind-fold, I believe.” 

“ Mme. Dandria bought it in ’71, but she did 
not come to live here until three or four years 
afterward, for her daughters’ studies kept her in 
Paris.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. II5 

“ She has two daughters, I think you said.” 

“ Yes, and one son, who is not worth very much, 
however.” 

Are the daughters very near of an age ?” 
asked Roger, hoping to gain some information. 

“ The elder is twenty -three, about, and the 
younger twenty and half. You see it is time 
they married — the elder, at all events.” 

“ And one of them is likely to be, I imagine.” 

^^Oh, you never can tell. They are apt to be 
particular in their choice, especially Ernestine ; 
and their mother will give them their own way 
in the matter.” 

Roger started. Ernestine was not' the name he 
had heard through the cleft in Lamon Rock. 

“Is Miss Ernestine the — the elder sister?” he 
asked, timidly, fearing that his curiosity would 
appear peculiar. 

“Yes, she is the elder, and to me the more in- 
teresting of the two girls ; but they are both charm- 
ing. Ernestine would make a splendid wife for a 
man, not that Germaine would not do so too ; she 
has the germ of many excellent qualities, if they 
were only more developed. No one can say what 
Love will do for her in that way, but at present 
she is giddy, thoughtless, and full of romantic 


Il6 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

ideas — a mere child — while Ernestine is a lovely 
woman, and would make a man happy, beyond a 
doubt.” 

‘‘ Evidently it is the elder sister who is to re- 
ceive the offer,” thought Roger, with secret satis- 
faction. 

A few seconds later they entered the gates of 
La Geraldine, and half-way up the drive met 
the old servant Baptiste taking a letter to the 
post. To the Doctor’s inquiries he answered : 

“ Mons. Dandria is out shooting, sir, but 
Madame and the young ladies are in the garden. 
I think they went down Periwinkle Walk.” 

That is all very well,” said the Doctor, as they 
drove on, but how the deuce am I to find this 
Periwinkle Walk ?” 

“ I know where it is,” said Roger ; I have often 
been there ; we must go through that larch-grove 
— how it has grown since I saw it last !” 

The coachman had seen them coming, and was 
waiting for them at the door of the house. They 
got out of the carriage and went at once in the 
direction of the larch-trees. Everything was 
familiar to Roger Pontac, and brought back the 
memories of his chilhood with startling vivid- 
ness ; but he gave but little thought to the scene 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. II7 

around him, and they had not gone far when they 
saw Mme. Dandria coming slowly toward them. 
At her side was one of her daughters, whom Roger 
Pontac knew at once, in spite of her close blue 
hood. 

“ Good afternoon, Madame,” cried the Doctor, 
going forward to meet them. “ Good afternoon. 
Miss Germaine ; you did not expect to see me so 
early, did you? 1 have come with a message, and 
my patients must do without me as best they may. 
Let me present to you my friend Mons. Pontac, 
officer of hussars, whom I have not seen for a 
long time. He is a neighbor of yours, for he is 
visiting the Duke de Bretteville, and he has 
brought an invitation from him to Mons. Dandria.” 

‘‘ My brother will feel highly honored, I am 
sure,” said Mme. Dandria, in great surprise ; and 
when the visitor had delivered his message Ger- 
maine exclaimed, suddenly : 

Uncle will be delighted, sir, I know, for he has 
thought and dreamed of nothing but the game in 
Br^teche Forest for a long time and at her words 
Roger Pontac’s hopes revived suddenly. It was 
evident that she had not acquainted her mother 
with her adventure at Lamon Rock, and to Pontac 
this reticence seemed a favorable omen. 


ii8 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I beg your pardon, Mme. Dandria,” put in 
the Doctor, “ but if you could favor me with a 
few minutes’ private conversation T should esteem 
it a favor. I have something of importance to 
communicate.” 

Certainly,” she responded, wonderingly ; and 
then, looking at Germaine and Pontac who were 
standing together, she asked her daughter: 

“Will not Ernestine soon be here?” 

“Oh, yes, she is coming,” replied Germaine 
quickl}^, “ she is down there gathering leaves and 
periwinkles for her herbarium. I hate her- 
bariums ; they are like cemeteries for flowers, to 
my mind.” 

Mme. Dandria turned to the Doctor, who was 
all impatience to deliver his message, and Pontac, 
delighted at being left alone with Germaine, felt 
like blessing Ernestine for staying away. 

“ I knew you would come,” said Germaine, as 
soon as her mother was out of hearing. 

“ And you will, I trust, forgive me for availing 
myself of a convenient pretext,” said Roger, earn- 
estly. 

She smiled gaily and then said : 

“ 1 have not told mamma of our adventure ; but 
now that you are here I will explain it to her 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. HQ 

directly she is finished with the Doctor. I wonder 
what he can have so m3^sterious to say to her?” 

“ I think I know,” said Roger, hesitating ; and 
while he spoke Doctor Sully was transacting his 
friend’s business with great earnestness. 

“ Yes, he came to me this morning for the ex- 
press purpose of asking me to carry his request to 
you. You know he has no relation, and I am his 
physician and his friend, and he is, I assure you, 
very impatient to know his fate.” 

“ I should think so,” said his listener, quietly ; 
“ and, though I feel flattered at his offer, I cannot 
but think it a little premature. His uncle is not 
yet buried.” 

“ I agree with you, Madame, but what can we 
expect ? The man is madly in love ; he says he 
would have offered himself a year ago but that 
his fortune was so very modest. Now that he is 
rich, the first thing he does is to throw himself at 
your daughter’s feet. His very first thought was 
of her.” 

A few yards behind these two another dialogue 
was taking place. 

“ And so the Doctor told you that he was com- 
ing here on matrimonial business ! Did he say 
whether it concerned my sister or me?” 


120 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ No, Miss Germaine, and I dared not ask, for I 
dreaded hearing that it related to yourself.” 

“ If it does, it is not settled yet, by any means — 
but did Doctor Sully tell you the name of the 
aspirant ?” 

Not directly. He said, however, that Mons. 
du Pourmeval called on him this morning.” 

“ Ah, then it is Ernestine’s affairs, not mine. I 
am delighted !’’ 

“ I hope you are right,” sighed the officer. 

“You shall see,” she said laughing, “directly 
my sister comes up, mamma will take her aside 
and the Doctor will come and talk to us. Mark 
what I tell you !” 

Just then Mme. Dandria was saying ; 

“You understand, Doctor, I shall not try to in- 
fluence my daughter in the least. She shall do 
exactly as she likes in this matter — ” 

“ Oh, certainly, but you will give her good 
advice ; and let me beg you to give me an answer 
for Arthur at once. He is in the direst suspense ; 
he cannot eat nor sleep, and I will not answer for 
the consequences if he meets with a direct 
refusal.” 

“I had no idea he was so intense,” replied 
Madame, “ but of course he must have some an- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


I2I 


swer — directly Ernestine comes I will tell 
her— 

Pardon me, but is it necessary to consult Miss 
Ernestine? This concerns her sister only.” 

Germaine ! Do you mean to say it is Ger- 
maine you have been speaking of? Is it possible 
that Mons. du Pourm^val wants Germaine, not 
Ernestine?” 

“ Certainly,” said the Doctor, smiling, and we 
have been talking at cross-purposes all this 
time — ” 

“ But he has openly paid great attention to my 
elder daughter — ” 

“ That may have been a lover’s ruse, and. Miss 
Germaine doubtless has so understood it.” 

^‘1 will call her at once, and find out what her 
sentiments are ; and meanwhile will you entertain 
your young friend ? Take him to see the magno- 
lias — ah ! there is Ernestine.” 

Doctor Sully went toward the young people 
and introduced Pontac to Ernestine, who had just 
come up with her hands full of periwinkles, anxl 
her eyes resting wonderingly on the stranger. 
At the same time Mme. Dandria drew her younger 
daughter aside and, pinching her ear, smilingly 
said in a low tone : 


122 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE 


‘‘ I have some news for you.” 

“ I know it, mamma, for the Doctor has on kid 
gloves and his best overcoat. He has brought an 
offer of marriage.” 

“ Why, you must be gifted with second sight !— 
He comes from — ” 

“ From Mons. Arthur du Pourm^val to ask the 
hand of Mile. Ernestine Dandria.” 

No, not Ernestine, but you, my child.” 

cried the girl, really astonished at- her 
mother’s words ; “ the Doctor must have made a 
mistake, for Arthur du Pourmeval has been in 
love with my sister for the last three years ! The 
last time he spent the evening here he had no eyes 
and no waltzes for any one but her.” 

We have all, I think, misunderstood his inten- 
tion, but there is no mistake now ; it is you whom 
he desires to make Mme. du Pourmeval.” 

‘‘ But I don’t care anything for him ; I only like 
to waltz with him — he is such a good dancer !” 

“ But you do not dislike him ?” 

“ No, mamma, and I am sure that Ernestine 
does not, either. He ought to apply to her, not 
me ; sisters should marry in the order of seniority ; 
it is not my turn.” 

“ Nonsense, Germaine, listen to me : Mons. du 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


23 


Pourmeval does not expect you to engage your- 
self to him at once ; he only asks permission to 
pay his addresses— to come here often.” 

“ He does that already ! And I am sure he has 
had plenty of opportunity to declare himself to 
me if he wanted to do so ; he must be very 
timid.” 

“ That would not have been according to eti- 
quette, m}^ dear ; there is a certain rule about such 
things, and I am sure you would be the very one 
to feel indignant if a young man proposed to you 
between the figures of a quadrille. Mons. du 
Pourmeval has only conformed himself to customs 
in applying first to the mother of the young lady 
of his choice.” 

“ And I suppose the young lady ought to be 
much affected at being asked, but I am not so in 
the least. I know he always preferred Ernestine, 
and I am not going to believe that his affections 
have suddenly jumped from grave to gay, from 
brunette to blonde. In short, mamma, I cannot 
give him any answer just know.” 

“We must giwQ him an answer, Germaine,’’ said 
her mother, “ for we have no right to leave him 
in suspense. Are you willing that I should hold 
out any encouragement ?” 


124 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Encouragement, no ; but he may continue to 
visit here, exactly as he has always done, if he 
chooses to do so.” 

“ You know, Germaine, that this )^oung man is 
very rich, and as mistress of Fougeray your posi- 
tion would be a very enviable one.” 

“I should quite dazzle the good people of 
Arcy !” 

“ Will you never be serious ? But I must tell 
the Doctor what answer he is to take to his friend. 
Come, let us go back.” 

The}^ soon overtook the other three, who were 
walking along slowly, and Mme. Dandria found 
occasion to whisper to the Dcotor : 

“She requires time for reflection, and mean- 
while will be pleased to have Mons. du Pourme- 
val visit here as usual.” 

“ That is as much as he can possibly expect, I 
am sure,” said the Doctor, eagerly, “ and I shall 
go at once to acquaint him with the happy result 
of my embassy. “ You will not be sorry to be re- 
lieved of the presence of this young gentlemen, 
for you will want to talk with your daughters and 
your brother-in-law about this important matter.” 

“Yes, indeed ; it will be impossible to conceal 
the matter from Ernestine,” said the mother, 


A DTSPUTED INHERITANCE. 1 25 

tiiOLightfully ; and at that moment her elder daugh- 
ter’ turned round and addressed the Doctor: 

“ Can you tell me why our Arcy friends have 
forsaken us ? We have not seen one of the young 
gentlemen for three days.” 

“It is doubtless, my dear Miss Ernestine, be- 
cause their leading spirit is in deep mourning and 
goes nowhere ; ” and, while he was speaking, Ger- 
maine was saying to Roger Pontac : 

“I have altered my mind; I shall never tell 
mamma of my meeting you at Lamon Rock.” 

“ I know your reason for concealment, and I 
know, too, that there is nothing left for me to do 
but to forget,'' he answered, sadly. 

“ You have guessed, then, that Mons. du Pour- 
rn^val’s message was for me, after all ? But you 
do not know what my answer was ; I will tell you. 
I said that I could not decide at present, and 
meanwhile he is to come here on the same footing 
as he has always done. I will tell you a secret if 
you will promise to keep it,” she added, looking 
at him with a smile. 

“ Do you doubt me ?” he asked. 

“ No, indeed, and this is the secret : The reason 
I encouraged Mons. du Pourm^val to come here 


126 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


is, that I want him to marry my sister ; I fancy 
she would not refuse him.” 

“ But it is you he loves, not your sister.” 

“ He thinks so now, but he may change his 
mind. And now that you know my plans you 
will come again, will you not? My uncle, when 
he calls on the Duke, will certainly invite you.” 

Roger Pontac flushed with delight at her 
words, and was about to answer when the Doctor 
turned toward him offering him a seat in his car- 
riage as far as the Bretteville road. 

“ I hope, sir, that we shall see you again,” said 
Mme. Dandria to the young officer, forgetting in 
her agitation that she had not asked her visitor 
into the house. 

Every one, excepting perhaps Germaine, was 
anxious to put an end to the call, for the Doctor 
was in all haste to carry his news to Arthur du 
Pourm6val ; Miss Dandria, suspecting that the 
Doctor’s visit had some connection with herself, 
longed to have an explanation from her mother, 
and Roger Pontac asked nothing better than to be 
alone wiih his own thoughts ; so the leave-takings 
were not prolonged any more than politeness 
demanded. 

The sub lieutenant’s mind was in a turmoil of 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


127 


conflicting ideas as he left La Geraldine, for he 
could not decide whether to hope or to despair. 
Certainly Germaine’s words and manner were 
more encouraging than he had dared to expect ; 
but, on the other hand, was it at all likely that she 
would refuse du Pourmeval’s millions for the sake 
of Mme. Vignemal’s disinherited cousin? 


128 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER VIL 

Arthur du Pourm^val was a young man whose 
great ambition was to raise himself above his 
sphere. 

His father before him spent half his fortune in 
trying to shine in Parisian society and to keep up 
with the country squires of his own province, and 
the young Arthur, early left an orphan, soon be- 
gan to display the same characteristics. On reach- 
ing his eighteenth year he commenced reducing 
his capital by assiduously frequenting the theatres 
of Paris in the winter, and driving four horses 
through the streets of Arcy-sur-Beuvron in the 
summer. Having, however, inherited from his 
mother, Mons. Vignemal’s sister, a large stock of 
prudence and worldly wisdom, he determined that 
the best thing for him to do was to make an ad- 
vantageous marriage as soon as an opportunity 
presented itself, which did not occur until 
Mme. Dandria began spending the summer at La 
Geraldine with her children. 

The two young ladies were well educated, 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


129 


pretty, and very pleasing; their mother was re- 
ported to possess a handsome fortune, and their 
uncle, a rich bachelor, was not likely to disinherit 
them. So Arthur du Pourm^val decided that his 
opportunity had come, and took active measures 
to improve it, contriving to become acquainted 
with the family, and to enter their circle of society 
in Paris. Mons. Dandria became interested in 
the young man, who, consequently, was soon re- 
ceived as a friend at La Geraldine, and being 
gifted with both wit and tact it was not long be- 
fore he had worked his way into the good graces 
of Mme. Dandria and her daughters. Having ac- 
complished this much he began to reflect, to feel 
the ground around him, as it were, before going 
farther. The young ladies were equally beautiful 
and equally attractive — the younger one rather 
more sympathetic than her sister, perhaps, but 
both possessed of excellent qualities. He could 
not choose between them, and so decided to offer 
himself to whichever one showed any inclination 
to respond to his advances, and to take the great- 
est pains meanwhile not to display a preference 
for either. 

He was sufficiently handsome, with a very pre- 
possessing manner, a good dancer, and a man, 


130 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


moreover, who knew howto talk to women ; and 
with all these advantages it is not surprising that 
he soon succeeded in his undertaking. 

And yet the result of his mode of action did not 
please him, for it included two unforeseen facts : 
the elder sister fell deeply in love with him, and 
he himself lost his heart irretrievably to the 
younger, who, it was evident, cared nothing for 
him. 

His prudent calculations had turned against him, 
and he was obliged to own that he was well pun- 
ished for his disingenuousness. Love is a passion 
which admits of no compromise, and is sure to re- 
sent the indignity of being put on an equality with 
worldly interest. 

Arthur du Pourmeval had only two alternatives 
— to renounce the woman he loved and marry one 
to whom he was indifferent, or to marry neither ; 
another man, under such circumstances, would 
have fled from the field in despair, but Du Pour- 
meval had the courage to remain and make an ef- 
fort to repair his error. 

He repressed his real feelings, and continued to 
pay his court assiduously to the elder sister, with- 
out, however, ceasing the most delicate attentions 
to the other, and Ernestine was completely misled 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. I3I 

by his apparent devotion, but Germaine shrewdly 
guessed that he was playing fast and loose with 
both her sister and herself. Such was the condi- 
tion of affairs when the accident at the ferry in the 
woods made a millionaire of Mons. Vignemal’s 
enterprising nephew, but, to do the young man 
justice, it did not occur to him that with his im- 
proved fortunes he could very reasonably hope to 
make a much better match than that to which, 
heretofore, he had aspired. 

He sincerely believed himself perfectly free to 
follow his own inclinations in his choice of the sis- 
ters, for though he had allowed Ernestine to think 
that it was to her hand he aspired, still he had 
never let a word escape him which could possibly 
be construed into a declaration of love. 

And now, since he had become a rich man, he 
believed that there was no doubt of his suit to 
Germaine being looked upon with favor ; and here 
his plebeian ancestry showed itself ; his mother’s 
lessons were bearing fruit, for she had taught him 
in his earliest childhood that money is the ruler 
of the world, and that its possession can accomplish 
anything. So he had no fear of Mme. Dandria’s 
objecting to her younger daughter being married 
before the elder one ; no mother would refuse so 


132 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


good a match as he was, and Germaine, though 
she did not love him yet, could not fail to be daz- 
zled and flattered at seeing him with his millions 
at her feet. Indeed he thought it very generous 
and chivalrous of him not to turn his back on La 
Geraldine and return to Paris, where every door 
would open gladly to receive him ; instead of this 
he had not lost a moment, on hearing of his good 
fortune, to commission his friend the Doctor to 
take his offer to La Geraldine. The answer he 
received was encouraging, but Doctor Sully also 
took occasion to repeat to him what the Judge had 
said concerning the inheritance. This last came 
like a thunder-clap to Arthur du Pourmeval, and 
in spite of the Doctor’s assurances that the fact of 
Mme. Vignemal’s having died first could be 
proved by scientific means, the young man fell 
into the deepest despair. At present he was uni- 
versally looked upon as the fortunate heir, but 
this could not last long, for the poor relations of 
Mme. Vignemal were not people to renounce 
their claims without consulting the law, and the 
true state of the case would thus be made public. 

What was he to do in this dilemma? It was 
four days since the Doctor had carried his message 
to Mme. Dandria, and now it was imperative that 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


133 


he should show himself at La Geraldine, to begin 
his siege to Germaine’s affections, to try and calm 
Ernestine’s just anger, and, above all, to talk 
money-matters with Mons. and Mme. Dandria. 
What could he say to them ? To lie was repug- 
nant to his nature, especially as it would not be 
the slightest use in this case. Arthur du Pourm6- 
val felt the need of an adviser, but Doctor Sully 
had been called to Paris on professional business, 
and there was no time to lose ; so, after a great deal 
of hesitation, the supposed heir decided to call 
upon Mons. Lestrigon and get his opinion of the 
case. 

This resolution taken, du Pourm^val ordered 
his coachman to get the coupe and two horses 
ready, for he knew that in any event politeness 
demanded [that he should present himself at La 
Geraldine that day. He had decided that in the 
existing state of affairs honesty was the best policy 
— in fact the only one, but that, after announcing 
to Mme. Dandria that there had arisen a serious 
doubt as to his inheriting a fortune, he would add 
certain variations calculated to represent himself 
in rather a romantic light to the eyes of his be- 
loved one. 

This he knew would be a great advantage to 


134 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


him, at least as far as the young lady was con- 
cerned. 

“ When I heard that I was to inherit a large 
fortune my first thought was to ask the hand of 
Miss Germaine, which I hesitated to do all the 
while I was a poor man ; but, now that I learn 
that owing to some legal difficulty I must remain 
as I have always been, I come to withdraw my 
offer. Believe me, it costs me dear to renounce 
my brightest hopes, but it is onl}’^ just that I 
should do so.” 

This was the little speech he had prepared, and 
he knew Mme. Dandriaand her daughter too well 
to doubt what their reply would be. They would 
not be outdone in disinterested generosity, and 
their doors would still remain open to him, which 
was all he wanted for the present. Germaine could 
not fail to be touched by his noble conduct. 

He set out on foot to Mons. Lestrigon’s house, 
resolving to choose the most retired streets so as 
to escape observation if possible, as he did not 
wish to be stopped and questioned by all his 
acquaintances, and he believed that the only diffi- 
culty would be in crossing the Rue Nationale. 

He had not taken more than twenty steps, how- 
ever, and was just entering a narrow lane between 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


135 


high garden walls, when he found himself face to 
face with a man who deliberately barred his way. 

Looking up in surprise he recognized one Vauri- 
net, a pettifogging lawyer, who enjoyed an unen- 
viable reputation in Arcy, and whom Mons. du 
Pourmeval had never honored with a bow. What 
was his astonishment, then, on seeing the man take 
off his hat politely, without showing any inclina- 
tion to stand aside. 

“ Mons. du Pourmeval, I was just going to your 
house,” said Vaurinet, but it is as well that I met 
you here ; in fact, better, for )^our servants, doubt- 
less, would spread the news of our interview all 
over town.” 

“ Our interview !” repeated Pourmeval, in su- 
preme disdain, “ on what subject, may I ask ?” 

“ On the subject that interests you more than 
all others — the inheritance of Mme. Vignemal. 
You are probably aware that you cannot inherit 
her fortune in virtue of Article 722.” 

And you wish to advise me, perhaps ?” 

No, I wish merely to assure to you a fortune 
which you will certainly lose if I do not interfere.” 

Pourmeval smiled ironically, and was going to 
reply when the other went on quickly : 

I know that I have not the favor of the court. 


136 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


and I shall be the first to advise you to secure the 
services of a member of the Parisian bar ; but to 
plead your cause successfully he must be able to 
produce proofs. He must show, beyond a doubt, 
that your uncle survived his wife ; and you make 
a great mistake if you think the judge will admit 
the medical theories of your friend Doctor Sully. 
The court is always predisposed in favor of nat- 
ural heirs who have been disinherited, and Mme. 
Vignemal’s cousins are honest, hard-working peo- 
ple, while you — ” 

“ I am an idler, and I have horses, carriages, and 
lackeys. And may I ask the reason why you have 
come to assist me to deprive these interesting 
persons of their rights 

** I can as easily serve them as you, and that by 
merely holding my tongue,’’ said Vaurinet. 

*‘That means, I suppose, that you have it in 
your power to produce proofs which will render 
void their claims ; and you want me to bu}^ these 
proofs. Why do you not apply to my opponents ? 
They would as willingly purchase your silence.” 

I acknowledge that I thought of doing so, for 
Mme. Vignemal’s cousins, though penniless, at 
present, will soon have plenty, and I could get 
from them a written promise — ” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


137 


“ Sell your conscience, in fact.'' 

No, I am not bound in conscience to enlighten 
Justice, though I should be culpable if I were to 
try to mislead it. I do not consider myself bound 
to interfere in any case not a criminal one. I have 
a perfect right to tell what I know or to keep 
silence.’’ 

“ And you believe you have a right to sell the 
secret you profess — or pretend to — ” 

There is no pretense ; and the moment you 
agree to pay me a certain sum (we can arrange 
that between us), to pay me that sum when yon 
have won your case, I will give you information 
of such facts as will immediately decide the 
question in your favor. No one will attempt to 
dispute them.” 

“ But you would not expect me to make you 
any promise without knowing something of the 
nature of your ‘ facts,’ ” said Pourmeval. 

“ Neither can you suppose that I am going to 
show my hand to you,” retorted the other; but 
I will give you some idea of the value of my se- 
cret. There are two ways of showing that your 
uncle inherited his wife’s money, and can there- 
fore transmit it to you. The first means is to 


138 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

prove that his wife died before he did ; and the 
second to prove that he survived his wife.” 

But that is all the same thing, is it not ?” 

As to the result, yes ; but not as to the fact. 
One witness will certify for instance, that Mme. 
Vignemal was dead when she drifted to the bank, 
three minutes after the accident ; and what if an- 
other person can prove that Mons. Vignemal was 
alive fifteen minutes after that? These proofs I 
can furnish you with, but I shall not say anything 
more without your written contract. You will run 
no risk in giving it me, since you will not engage 
to pay me until you have won your suit. 

This interesting dialogue took place in a very 
retired street, and would have ended long ago, if 
any one had chanced to pass, for Arthur du Pour- 
meval would not, under any consideration, have 
been caught talking to such a disreputable charac- 
ter as this Vaurinet. 

But as the fellow talked Pourm^val gradually 
became convinced that he was speaking the truth, 
and that his profession might be worth consider- 
ing. 

“Mr. Vaurinet,” he said, without his dropping 
his distant tone, “you will understand that I can- 
not reply to you here in the open street. Come 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


139 


to my house to morrow night at eleven o’clock. 
My servants will be in bed, and I myself will let 
you m.” 

“Very well, replied the other, coldly, “ I shall 
be punctual — in the meantime, I have the honor 
to wish you good-day,” and he passed on without 
further delay. 

Arthur du Pourmeval continued his way in the 
other direction, plunged deep in thought. This 
unexpected rencontre had somewhat changed 
his views on the subjeet of Mme. Vignemal’s 
money, for there was still some hope for him, if it 
could be proved that Mons. Vignemal was alive a 
quarter of an hour after his wife. The thing was 
possible, though hardly probable; but, at all events, 
he would overcome his repugnance for cultivating 
Mons. Vaurinet and find out what the fellow knew. 
It would be wise to consult Mons. Lestrigon 
first, however, and du Pourmeval turned his steps 
in the direction of the Judge’s house, hoping to 
reach it without further interuption. 


140 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

On coming to the Rue Nationale, du Pourm^vl 
was agreeably surprised to see that there were 
but few persons in the street, and no one lounging 
on the veranda of the club-house, as was gener- 
ally the case, and he was congratulating himself 
upon these fortunate circumstances when a voice 
from above him called his name, and looking up 
he saw, at a window in the second story of the 
club-house, no other than Alfred Dandria, who 
beckoned to him eagerly. 

Just at that moment, he would rather have met 
any one he knew than Germaine’s brother, whom 
he had not seen for several days, as )’oung Dandria 
had left for Paris a few hours before the accident 
on the Beuvron, and it was always difficult to in- 
duce him to return to La Geraldine. 

What luck !” cried Alfred, from the window. 

I was just thinking of going to your house, and 
here you are ! Come upstairs.” 

“ Impossible; I am going to make a call.” 

“ Oh, 3'ou can do that afterward — ” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 141 

No, I am expected ; it is very important ousi- 
ness.” 

And / want to see you on a matter that is 
very important. Come up, I beg you.” 

“ I prefer not to be seen in the club just now. 
Can you not come down.?” 

“Indeed I cannbt; my uncle might happen to 
pass by and catch me ; and besides, we cannot 
talk quietly in the street.” 

“ Nor up there, either ; we should be inter- 
rupted every five minutes.” 

“ No, on my honor! There is not a soul here 
but five or six old bucks with their noses in the 
newspapers. Do come up, old fellow.” 

“ I tell you it would not do — I am in deep 
mourning.” 

“Oh, yes; uncle Vignemal has breathed his last. 
I heard about it. And he has left you a nice pot 
of money, you lucky dog ; I might wait a long 
time before such a thing happened to me, and I 
am just the man that needs it most ; but I beg you, 
my dear Pourm^val — in the name of your millions 
— come up here ; I have a favor to ask you.” 

So Arthur du Pourmeval, inwardly wishing his 
friend at the bottom of the sea, but thinking that 
it would not do to lose an opportunity of making 


42 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


himself agreeable to the brother of Germaine 
Dandria, replied: 

“ If I can oblige you, I shall be only to glad,” 
and then he slipped quietly into the club-house, 
going at once to the large, bare hall, which was 
called, by courtesy, the reading-room. This club- 
house bore ver}^ little resemblance to those of 
Paris, for it boasted no servants in liverjq and the 
furniture was remarkable only for its plainness. 
There were fine rooms with panelled walls, a num- 
ber of cane-seat chairs, a dozen arm-chairs, some 
card-tables with shabby green-cloths, and one bill- 
iard-table bought at second-hand. 

And yet this place was the resort of the best 
people in Arcy, and only the elite were admitted ; 
Mons. Vaurinet had been refused entrance. 

Arthur du Pourm^val was met at the door of the 
reading-room by Alfred Dandria, who, taking him 
affectionately by the arm, led him into the billiard- 
room, which was entirely deserted. 

“ I did not know you were here,” said Arthur. 
“ When did you come back ?” 

“To-day, at half-past twelve. Five hours on 
the railroad, and not a wink of sleep all night ! I 
am hardly able to stand. You have not seen 
Mme. Dandria yet?” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


143 


No, indeed ; I am in no hurry to go to La Ger- 
aldine, for I shall have rather a warm welcome 
when they hear what has happened to me. The 
only one of the four who won’t denounce me will 
be Germaine. She has sense, and always makes 
allowances for a fellow.” 

“ Would it be a great liberty on my part to ask 
what crime you have committed ?” said Pourme- 
val, with a smile. 

Liberty ? No indeed, for I called you up here 
on purpose to tell you all about it. The fact is, 
Pourmeval, I have been playing the fool in a gam- 
bling house where I am well-known, and have run 
in debt for six-hundred dollars. I was obliged to 
give a note for the amount, but I have not a cent 
to pay with, and when my uncle hears of it — ” 

“ He will help you out of your difficulty, I am 
sure,” put in his listener. 

“Not he, indeed ! You don’t know Armand 
Dandria. All the help he will give me will be 
to say coolly, ‘ My dear boy, you are bound to 
disgrace yourself sooner or later, and if I pay this 
debt you will only contract another ; so it is much 
better to let you come to grief at once ; it will be 
cheaper, and may hasten your reform.’ ” 


144 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I cannot believe that your uncle will be as 
merciless as you think — ” 

He will, for it is a matter of principle with 
him ; he will not budge an inch. My mother is 
not so inflexible; she would give me the money, I 
know — but only after a grand scene, and a storm of 
tears and reproaches for which 1 have no liking. 
Ah! if Germaine had the money she would not let 
me ask twice for it ; but I know she has only two- 
hundred and forty dollars in her cabinet ; so you 
see, my dear Pourm^val, you are the only one to 
help me out of this hole." 

Arthur du Pourm^val had been expecting this, 
and was not much pleased at the prospect, for in 
the present state of his finances it would be very 
inconvenient for him to lend the desired sum ; but, 
on the other hand, he was unwilling to offend 
young Dandria, for he did not wish to have an 
enemy at La Geraldine. 

“ It is a wretched business," said Alfred, discon- 
certed by the other’s hesitation, “ and one should 
never borrow money of a friend, I know. If I 
vere only of age I would apply to a usurer, but I 
d'd not think that you would miss eight hundred 
dollars — I say eight hundred, because I do not 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


145 


want to be without a cent after taking up the 
note." 

“ Oh, I will lend you the money very willingly," 
said Arthur, who had taken his resolution while 
the other was speaking. 

“ Thanks, thanks, my dear friend !" cried Alfred, 
grasping Arthur’s hand and shaking it with great 
effusion. “ I knew what a good-hearted fellow 
you were; I was right to rely on you for help. I 
need not tell you," he added, eagerl}^ “ what I 
shall say if they ask my advice — up at La Ger- 
aldine ; you know what I mean — if you should 
ever think of becoming my brother-in-law ! I have 
eyes, you see, du Pourm^val." 

If you had gone straight to La Geraldine," 
said Arthur, with dignity, “ you would have learned 
that last Thursday Doctor Sully came from me 
to Mme. Dandria, to*ask her daughter’s hand in 
marriage." 

“ Is that true? I am delighted, and I know, too, 
that Ernestine — ’’ 

“ It was Miss Germaine’s hand I asked," inter- 
rupted Pourmeval. 

“ You don’t mean it ! I thought that — but never 
mind. I hope you were accepted." 

It has not got as far as that yet, but your sister 


146 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


did me the honor of not refusing me, and I am to 
be allowed to continue my visits.” 

“ It’s settled then — j^ou will be married after 
Lent. If my sister did not intend to accept you 
we would have all gone back to Paris, but as it is 
we shall probably remain here till New Years. 
That is a most awful bore, but I am resigned, since 
you are to marry Germaine. I have to congratu- 
late you on your choice, Pourm6val, though she 
is my sister, and as for you — well, I shall not say 
what my opinion is; you know well enough. And 
you are a millionaire, too !” 

“ Not yet.” 

Oh, well, it’s all the same. Sourdas told me 
all about it. Mme. Vignemal left everything to 
your uncle.” 

“ Sourdas has made a mistake ; so have many 
others, myself among the number. If I had known 
the truth sooner I would not have dared to offer 
myself to Miss Germaine, and now I greatly fear 
that your mother will think I wilfully misled 
her. I have to prove that my uncle survived his 
wife.” 

“ The deuce ! But you will prove it.” 

“ I do not see how I can do so. One person saw 
them disappear when the boat capsized, and a few 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


147 


minutes afterward found Mine. Vignemal near 
the bank. She gave no sign of life, and my uncle’s 
body was found the next day, some distance down 
the stream. I do not think he could swim, and, in 
any case, how am I going to find a witness to tes- 
tify that he saw my uncle some time after the acci- 
dent, and heard him call for help ? There may be 
such a witness in existence; I have a slight hope, 
but it is a very slight one, I assure you.” 

“ Wait a minute,” said Alfred, rubbing his hand 
across his forehead thoughtfully; “ I remember 
hearing a conversation somewhere ; let me see — 
ah ! I have it; I can furnish the witness you want.” 

“ Are you speaking seriously ?” said du Pour- 
meval, who never had much faith in young Dan- 
dria’s assertions. 

“ Certainly I am ; do you think I would joke on 
such a serious subject.^ Yes, I mean it. Chance 
has thrown in my way the means of aiding you, 
my friend, my future brother.” 

“ But you were away at the time, and never 
heard of the accident till this morning!” 

That is true; I heard of it here in the club- 
house, and I only wish I had received the news 
sooner. Now, let me see. The accident took 
place last Tuesday, did it not?” 


48 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“Yes, toward nine o’clock in the evening. Your 
mother and uncle know the exact time, for they 
were in their drawing-room when they heard the 
cry for help.” 

“ Good. And where were the bodies found — 
that is, your uncle’s body?” 

“ On the left bank of the river, but a great deal 
farther down ; within gun-shot of the bridge.” 

“ What had become of the boat?” 

“ Only a few planks of it were found; it must 
have dashed against the piles, for the remnants of 
it were floating about under the first arch.” 

“ That settles it Pourmeval, the fortune is 
yours, beyond a doubt.” 

“ I wish you would explain yourself, Alfred,” 
said Arthur, impatiently. 

“Well, I am going to do so. This is what I 
heard, no later than this morning, in the railway- 
train. I was comfortably settled for a nap, as there 
was no one in the carriage but myself, when in 
came an individual with a long, pointed chin, a 
nose the shape of a battle-axe, and gold spectacles. 
He sat down at the other end of the carriage, and 
the next minute another fellow joined him — a lit- 
tle, old man, who looked as if he might be a village 
money-lender. I was furious, and lighted a cigar 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


149 


in the hope of smoking them out, but they did not 
budge — ” 

“ Your recital is very amusing,” said Pourmeval, 
suddenly, “ but you do not consider that I am on 
thorns.” 

“ 1 am coming to the point in a minute ; have 
patience. The man with the spectacles glared at 
me ferociously, but I finished my cigar at my 
leisure, and then tried to sleep. But if those brutes 
didn’t begin to talk ! I had a great mind to com- 
mence singing All the zvorse for her, to make them 
stop. All on a sudden 1 heard the man with the 
spectacles ask the other one if he had seen any- 
thing in the papers about an accident on the river 
Beuvron. I was astonished, for I had not noticed 
anything of the kind ; but it seems this man took 
part in the tragedy. After a great deal of pre- 
amble — ” 

Which you will spare me,” put in du Pour- 
meval. 

“ This is what he said — I will imitate his voice 
for you — ‘ I own, not far from this town, a small, 
unpretending country place, to which I come occa- 
sionally for a breath of air. My house is situated 
on the bank of a stream which, though not large, 
is at times exceedingly turbulent. I had spent a 


150 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

week in my rural home when I was unexpectedly 
summoned — last Tuesday evening — to Paris on 
urgent business, and although the weather was 
frightful I prepared to set out at once, by the nine 
forty-five train ’ — my story begins to interest you, 
does it not, Pourmeval?” 

Go on, I beg of you !” said Arthur. 

“ Well, this man went on to say that, as he was 
crossing the bridge in a great hurry to catch his 
train, he heard a voice calling for help, and look- 
ing over the parapet, saw a man clinging to a cap- 
sized boat. It was bright moonlight, but the wind 
was lashing the water into enormous waves, and 
in another minute the boat was dashed violently 
against the piles of the bridge, and he saw it no 
more. He was no swimmer, so he ran as fast as 
he could to the railway station, and had just time 
to tell an employe what had happened when his 
train started, and he was off to Paris. Probably 
the man he told did not feel inclined to go and 
search the river, and so paid no attention to the 
matter; but it is more than likely that he would 
have been too late to save Mons. Vignemal ; and 
so you see you will inherit, after all.” 

Arthur du Pourmeval did not make any rejoin- 
der, for he was too much agitated to speak. He 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 151 

sincerely pitied his unfortunate uncle, whose life 
it appeared might have been saved, and at the 
same time he thought he had discovered what 
Mons. Vaurinet’s information was. Probably the 
pettifogger, secretly on the search for information, 
had run against the railway employe, and the two 
had agreed to share the profits of the business, 
and work together. 

I can do v/ithout the gentleman now,” thought 
Arthur, and then asked aloud of his companion. 

“ You do not knew the name of your ‘ man with 
gold, spectacles ’ — how are we to find him ?” 

Oh, that would not be a difficult matter. I 
should know him a mile off ; and we would only 
have to find his ‘rural home where he goes for a 
breath of air’— he got off the train at the station 
by the bridge.” 

“ Then I shall go there at once,” said du Pour- 
m^val, eagerly. 

“You need not trouble yourself; it will not be 
necessary, for the worthy man declared his inten- 
tion of going to the authorities at Arcy and mak- 
ing a statement of what he had seen and heard. 
He would have no object in inventing the story, 
for it does not reflect any credit on himself. He 
left a fellow-being to perish miserably, rather than 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


IS4 


CHAPTER IX. 

‘‘ My dear du Pourm^val let me present to you 
Mons. Pontac, officer of hussars, our neighbor 
for a short time. Mons. Pontac, my friend Mons. 
du Pourmeval, whom you will often meet here,” 
said Uncle Armand. 

Mons. Vignemal’s nephew had reached La Ger- 
aldine in his carriage half an hour before the 
arrival of Mme. Vignemal’s cousin who came on 
foot, and the rivals met in Mme. Dandria’s draw- 
ing-room. 

It was an unpremeditated meeting and a 
strange one, but chance is often an arbitrary ruler, 
disregarding circumstances, anticipating the 
course of events, and hastening the climax. 

Roger Pontac had, after a great deal of hesita- 
tion, decided to follow Germaine’s advice — which, 
indeed, seemed almost a command — and return 
the visit made by Mons. Dandria at Bretteville 
Castle, although he believed that in so doing he 
was only laying up sorrow for himself. He had 
little hope of being preferred before Arthur du 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


155 


Pourmeval, who was so much his superior in 
wealth, position, and knowledge of the world. 

He liad, it is true, the advantage of his rival in 
one respect. He knew that du Pourmeval was 
the acknowledged suitor of Mme. Dandria’s 
younger daughter, while du Pourmeval had not 
the remotest suspicion that this handsome young 
officer was in love with Germaine, or that the 
young lady herself had not taken any measures to 
repel his advances. 

Although Arthur du Pourmeval and Roger 
Pontac had often crossed each other’s path in their 
childhood, they had never been companions, for 
Arthur had had nothing in common with the little 
ill-clad fellow who had lived on the charity of 
Mme. Vignemal, while he himself was learning 
the art of tying his cravat in a boarding-school of 
the Faubourg Saint Honare ; and ten years had 
made such changes in Roger Pontac’s appearance 
that there was no sign of recognition in Arthur’s 
face when he was being introduced to his uncle’s 
relative-by-marriage. 

On this occasion Arthur was comfortably 
seated before the fire, and in the midst of the 
family circle of La Gisraldine, when Roger entered 
the room, and the latter, seeing the faultlessly 


152 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


risk his own skin or lose his train. I should not 
be surprised, though, if he went to the mayor, the 
superintendent of police, and the prosecuting- 
attorney, for he evidently supposes that the death 
was the result of a crime.” 

Du Pourmeval’s hopes rose gradually. The fort- 
une which had seemed to be slipping from his 
grasp was to be his own, after all — thanks to a mere 
chance circumstance ; he could with perfect pro- 
priety avail himself of the permission he had re- 
ceived to visit daily at La Geraldine. But there 
was no longer any object in his calling upon Mons. 
Lestrigon ; better to let the witness go and de- 
clare spontaneously that Mons. Vignemal had 
survived his wife. 

“ My dear Alfred,” he said, after a long pause, 
“ I am delighted to hear that I can with certainty 
offer Miss Germaine a fortune worthy of her 
acceptance. I intended to go to-day, and, after 
explaining the situation, ask permission to with- 
draw my proposal.” 

“ Do nothing of the kind, but come to La Ger- 
aldine as if nothing had happened, and I will go 
with you. I am not afraid, now that you have 
promised me the eight hundred dollars.” 

“ 1 have that amount with me,” said du Pour- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


153 


meval, opening his pocket-book and handing out 
the money with great effusion. 

“ Thank you, my dear fellow, you have helped 
me out of a fearful hobble ; I shall not forget your 
kindness, I assure you. And now, shall we go to 
my mamma?” 

“ Yes, my coupe is waiting for me ; and perhaps, 
on the way, we might stop at the railway station.” 

“ That is a good idea. We could make inquiries 
for the man with gold spectacles*, we might even 
see him.” 

Arthur, in high spirits, took his friend’s arm, 
and they went off together, and those who saw 
them whispered — 

‘^That is settled, you see. The Vignemals’ 
money will be spent in Paris.” 


156 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

fashionable attire ot his rival, regretted keenly 
having worn his un-dress uniform, unconscious 
that the simplicity of his dress only served to ex- 
hibit the natural elegance and grace of his figure. 

He felt, too, that he was du Pourm^val’s inferior 
in conversational powers, for he had not learned 
the jargon of society, and moreover was not ac- 
customed to the company of ladies. Du Pour- 
meval, being quite at home with the Dandria 
family, and knowing just how to please them, was 
never at a loss for a subject, and could bestow a 
graceful compliment by merely recalling some in- 
cident or making an illusion to a certain waltz 
or quadrille, while Ponlac possessed none of these 
pleasant souvenirs except his meeting with Ger- 
maine at Lamon Rock, and on this subject he 
could not speak, as she wished the incident to re- 
main a secret. 

Mme. Dandria, without knowing what a service 
she was doing him, soon came to his rescue by 
saying : 

“ I am delighted to see that you did not forget 
the way to La Geraldine, Mons. Pontac, and I 
hope that we can rely on you to help us to pass 
several weeks more in the country agreeably ; I 
think we shall remain until toward the end of the 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


157 


year, and by December most of our Arcy friends 
will have flown off to Paris. Mons. du Pour- 
meval will not abandon us, but he is in mourning. 
We shall not give any formal entertainment but 
shall always be glad to see our friends — and to 
number you among them.” 

Pontac made a suitable reply to this amiable 
speech, and this time did not say that he would 
soon have to rejoin his regiment, for he thought 
he read in Germaine’s eyes that she wished him 
to accept her mother’s hospitality without re- 
serve. 

The name of Bretteville produced an impression 
in favor of the young lieutenant. Du Pourmeval 
had never been invited to the Castle, and knew its 
owner by sight only. He alwa)7^s made a point, 
however, of speaking of the Duke in a familiar tone 
as if they were on terms of intimacy, and he looked 
with great interest at Pontac, the friend of the 
nobleman, resolving to avail himself of this new 
acquaintance to procure an introduction into the 
aristocratic world. 

Alfred Dandria was scarcely less impressed, and 
remarked to Pontac in a conciliating tone : 

‘‘As you belong to the cavalry, sir, you are 
probably fond of horses. I dote on them, and I 


158 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE 

should be glad to show you one I bought at Tat- 
tensairs this year — Ralph, by Rob Roy and 
Gypsy — ” 

‘‘ You need not boast of your Ralph, said Mons. 
Dandria, he ran away with Germaine, the other 
day and might have broken her neck.” 

“Good for Ralph! How dare you ride him, 
Miss, without m}^ permission?” asked Alfred, 
laughingly, of his sister. 

“ My two saddle-horses are always at your serv- 
ice, Miss. Germaine,” put in du Pourm^val 
eagerly. 

“ Thank you,” she replied, “ but I shall not 
trust m37self on a blood-horse again ; I shall do as 
Ernestine does — ride one of the mares. All’s well 
that ends well, but I have learned to be timid, by 
a sad experience.” 

Roger Pontac was on hot coals when Alfred 
first spoke of Ralph, fearing that he should betray 
himself, but he recovered his self-control while 
Germaine was speaking, and listened with appar- 
ent interest to Mme. Dandria’s explanation, which 
was addressed especially to himself. 

“We have had only too much excitement in the 
past few days, My daughter was run away with 
by this wretched horse, and we were in a state of 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


159 


the greatest alarm for more than an hour. Her 
uncle and sister were looking for her in vain 
until nearly night-fall, when they came home with- 
out her, and she arrived alone, some time after. 
The night before that, Mons. du Pourmeval’saunt 
and uncle, our neighbors, were drowned in cross- 
ing the river at the end of our garden. Of course 
you heard of the accident.” 

“ Yes, madame, I heard of it ffom some of Mons. 
de Bretteville’s servants.” 

“ We don’t know yet that it was an accident^' 
said Armand Dandria, there was a suspicious 
character connected with it — that very Bohemian 
of whose depredations I informed the Duke. He 
did not seem inclined to avail himself of my warn- 
ing, however.” 

At present, he is apt to be very lenient ; he is 
absorbed in his grief for his son’s death,” said 
Roger quietly, and after a pause, Alfred suddenly 
exclaimed : 

“ Uncle Armand, will you take me when you go 
hunting in Bretteville woods?” 

“ Not I, indeed ! you are too ready with your 
gun. I have no ambition to receive into my body 
a bullet intended for a buck. I do not speak for 
my own sake only, for people would say that you 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


1 6o 

killed me for the purpose of inheriting my 
money — ” 

‘‘ Oh Armand !” cried his sister-in-law in a 
shocked tone. 

'‘Alfred understands me,” laughed Armand; 
“ but the fact is, he is not invited — ” 

Pontac hastened to say, “ I am sure that Mons. 
de Bretteville would be delighted to extend his 
invitation to all the members of your family. If 
these ladies would like to join a shooting party — ” 

“ Oh delightful !” cried Germaine ; “ what do 
you think of that, Ernestine?” 

“ Whatever you do,” said the elder sister, look- 
ing up quietly. 

“ Mons. du Pourmeval is not so indifferent, I 
know,” continued Germaine ; “ his mourning need 
not prevent him from using his gun.” 

“ I have not the pleasure of knowing the Duke 
de Bretteville,” murmured Arthur, secretly delight- 
ed at the prospect ; and Roger Pontac, who prob- 
ably had had no intention of offering hospitality 
to his rival, saw in Germaine’s e3’'es another re- 
quest, and acted accordingly. “ She is afraid her 
mother will not agree to the plan if the son-in-law 
elect is not included,” he thought, and then he 
proceeded to assure du Pourmeval that he would 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. l6l 

confer a favor upon the Duke by joining the 
party. 

That will be delightful,” said Mons. Dandria, 
when Arthur had accepted with a profusion of 
thanks ; and then, after a pause, he remarked. 

Why can we not have a little music this even- 
ing ? Are you fond of it, Monsieur Pontac?” 

“ Very much so, although I do not understand 
it in the least,” said Roger. 

Very likely you know some Arabic airs; my 
nieces could play your accompaniments if you 
would favor us with some songs. Come, Ernes- 
tine.” 

Every one was delighted with the proposition 
excepting the two who were expected to furnish 
the music. Roger Pontac had no desire to expose 
himself to the criticism of his rival, and Ernestine 
had other plans that evening. 

I am nothing of a singer,” said Pontac, and 
the songs of Africa are not likely to please French 
ears. They sound almost discordant and very 
monotonous, fit only to put one to sleep.” 

“ I don’t believe it,” said Germaine; “wild airs 
are often charming.” 

“ I must ask to be excused from accompanying 
you, Mons. Pontac,” said Ernestine, “ for I should 


i 62 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


make a failure of it, not knowing anything of 
Arabic.” 

“ Then I will play,” exclaimed Germaine, going 
to the piano, ‘‘if Mons. Pontac will first give me 
an idea of the tempoT 

“And I shall be delighted to have a respite from 
those symphonies and sonatas that you and Ernes- 
tine are so fond of,” said Uncle Armand ; “if I 
were married and had daughters, I would forbid 
them to touch a piano ; but to hear an Arabic 
song, sung by an officer of the army of Africa and 
accompanied by a Parisian, will be a real treat.” 

“ After that, Mons. Pontac, I am sure you can- 
not refuse !” said Germaine, laughing, and Roger, 
seeing that the arrangment would secure him a 
t^te-k-t^te which he had been vainly longing for 
ever since he came into the house, made no further 
objection. 

Mons. Dandria went and sat on a sofa at the end 
of the room as far as possible from the piano ; Al- 
fred contrived to leave the drawing-room unno- 
ticed, for he was anxious to put his eight hundred 
dollars away in safety, and to ascertain the condi- 
tion of Ralph’s knees; Ernestine, as usual, seemed 
absorbed in her embroidery, and du Pourmeval had 
the good taste to seat himself at her side and pre- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 163 

tend to compliment her upon her needle-work ; he 
knew that he owed her some consideration, and 
he did not dream that he had any cause to be jeal- 
ous of Pontac’s tete-k-tete with Germaine. Mme. 
Dandria sat down near her brother-in-law, for slie 
felt that there should be a mutual explanation be- 
tween her future son-in-law and her elder daugh- 
ter, and this was an excellent opportunity. She 
had not the slightest suspicion of Pontac’s senti- 
ments, and so it happened that the six occupants 
of the room were divided off in groups of two, at 
such distances from each other that they could 
converse fn low tones without any fear of being 
overheard. 

“ This is a very good idea of your Uncle’s,” said 
Pontac, as Germaine began running her fingers 
over the piano keys ; “ for if we were going to 
sing a ballad or an opera-air we would have 
needed notes, and then we should have to have 
some one here to turn over the leaves of the mu- 
sic ; but as it is,” he added, we are left to our- 
selves, and I have an opportunity of telling 
you — ” 

“ You must tell me between the verses. Now, 
give me the time ; sing the first line,” said she sud- 
denly. 


l(;4 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

“ la thir en nouba,'' he sang, or rather chanted 
in slow, melancholy rhythm. 

“ I have it,” she said, striking the chords, “ that 
is lovely, very like Italian. And I always thought 
Arabic a harsh language ! What comes next.^’’ 
Sir 071 selleiTi aid el mahbouba,'' he continued. 

“ What is the meaning of that last word ?” 

“ Beloved one,” answered Pontac slowly. 

“ Will you translate the whole line, Monsieur?” 
she asked, after a pause. 

Sweet bird, go, salute my loved one ; that is 
the burden of the song he said. 

“Very well; now we will try it together,” said 
Germaine commencing to play again, and Roger 
began the song. His voice was a good one, and 
he sang with a great deal of feeling the message 
carried by the sweet bird to the loved one ; and 
at the end of the first verse Germaine said in a 
low tone, while she played an interlude: 

“ It is all arranged, you see. Mons. du Pour- 
meval will inherit, and he will marry my sister. 
On, yes, I mean it. Don’t you see how I man- 
aged it all ? See them now. He will soon 
discover that he mistook a mere fancy for real 
love, and Ernestine is better suited to him than 
I am, a great deal, for he wants a wife who 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 165 

will help him to spend his money. I don't care 
for wealth at all, and in that I think you are like 
me Monsieur, tor you did not move a muscle 
when you heard my uncle say that your cousin’s 
fortune would go to Mons. du Pourmeval.— Now 
sing the next verse,” she added suddenly, begin- 
ning the accompaniment again. He did as she 
said and in a few minutes he went on talking 
quickly and with great earnestness. 

“ Doctor Sully told us about you, — even spoke 
of you by name, the night of the accident, 
but everyone has forgotten it, and if the Doctor 
thought it advisable he would have mentioned 
your relationship to Mme. Vignemal when he 
brought you here. Let me beg you to imitate his 
prudence — as a favor to me. Sing, sing !” she ex- 
claimed just as he was going to express his readi- 
ness to obey her, “ uncle is looking at us !” 

Mons. Dandria was indeed looking at them, but 
his thoughts were elsewhere. 

Du Pourmeval has a great deal to say to Ernes- 
tine this evening,” he was remarking to his sister- 
in law. 

And I am very glad to see it, “ answered 
Mme. Dandria, “for I fear she has misunder- 
stood his attentions to herself ; they were certainly 


i66 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


very marked at one time, and it is only just that 
he should make some explanation.” 

“ No explanation can mend a broken heart,” 
said Uncle Armand, “but let us hope that Ernes- 
tine is not so deeply affected.” He spoke half in 
jest, and at the same moment Ernestine was sa}"- 
ing to du Pourmeval— 

“ And so )"ou deny that your newly-acquired 
wealth has been the cause of the change in your 
sentiments ?” 

“ I assure you that I deeply regret not having 
made my intentions more clear; since I find you 
have mistaken my real sentiments,” he stam- 
mered. 

“ But your repentance, even if it were sincere, 
would not avail now,” she answered, “ I under- 
stand the miserable comedy you have been acting 
all this time ; before you became rich you had 
little hope of winning my sister’s hand, and would 
have taken mine as a last resource. I forgive 
you, but I pray heaven that Germaine will not 
accept you, for I love her and would not have her 
deceived as I have been. She will certainly re- 
fuse you when she knows what you are, and then 
your perfidy will have its reward.” 

Arthur du Pourmeval was startled by this decla- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


167 


ration of war, but he could not reply to it, for the 
song was finished, and a sudden silence followed; 
then Germaine rose from the piano, and her 
mother and uncle came forward to thank Lieu- 
tenant Pontac for the pleasure he had given them. 

“ That is beautiful music,” said Mons. Dandria 
who had heard very little of the Arabic song, 
“ infinitely preferable to Mozart and Beethoven. 
I like the songs, too, of those ‘redskins,’ the 
American Indians — ” 

“And of Bohemians too, perhaps !” said Ger- 
maine ; “ shall we send for Roland Ferrer to sing 
to you ?” 

“ No, the farther he keeps from La Geraldine, 
the better I shall like it. He will end in a prison, 
that fellow ; he is strongly suspected of drowning 
our neighbors, the Vignemals, instead of trying 
to save them as “he pretends. It seems that he is 
in the pay of a cousin of Mme. Vignemal, a 
young man who left the country some years ago 
and returned only lately.” 

Roger Pontac guessed at once that he was the 
cousin who was suspected, for none of the other 
relations of Mme. Vignemal had left the place. 
The idea was absurd, and forgetting Germaine’s 
request, he would probably have declared his 


i68 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


own identity before everyone if she had not in- 
terposed, exclaiming: 

What a ridiculous story ! The magistrates 
are trying to get up a romance. I never knew 
they had so much imagination !” 

‘‘ Mons. Lestrigon is not given to romancing,” 
said Uncle Armand, “and it was he who gave me 
the information. Mme. Vignemal brought up 
her cousin, clothed and educated him, out of 
charity, but he repaid her kindness by running 
away from school, and leaving the country, and 
no one has ever heard of him since.” 

“ It seems to me that the doctor told us about 
that,” said Mme. Dandria thoughtfully. 

“ He did, but I have forgotten the name of the 
cousin ; he has been seen about here lately — ” 

“ And this mysterious cousin and Roland Fer- 
rer are accomplices, are they ?” said Germaine ; 
“ then why don’t the}^ catch the Bohemian and 
question him ? He is always round here, and I 
am sure that if Ernestine wanted him to paint his 
portrait, or anything, it would not be hard to cap- 
ture him.” 

“ They do not wish to take him until they have 
found the other one, for whom they are now in 
search,” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 169 

Roger Pontac listened with a frown to Mons. 
Dandria’s assertions, and could with difficulty re- 
frain from crying out. 

“ I am that cousin — you are talking sheer non- 
sense,” but a glance from Germaine kept him 
silent, and then an unexpected ally joined in the 
discussion. Arthur du Pourm^val knew that the 
institution of a criminal suit would have the 
effect of delaying the settling of the estates, and 
it might even give rise to a question as to the 
validity of his witness’s testimony; he had there- 
fore no wish to have any one arrested. 

“ I think it a very unlikely tale, although I do 
not know this cousin,” he said, slowly ; “ if he had 
any evil designs, he would hardly have confided 
them to Roland Ferrer ; Doctor Sully says that the 
young fellow is incapable of committing a crime.” 

“ The Doctor is prejudiced in his favor,” an- 
swered Mons. Dandria; “but we have talked 
long enough about this odious affair ; let us 
change the subject. Mons. Pontac f will not im- 
pose upon good nature by asking you to sing 
again, but perhaps you will tell us something 
about the African hunts. Have you ever killed a 
lion ?” 

“ No, 1 confess to having very little taste for 


1^0 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


that sort of thing — I have not touched a gun since 
I came to Bretteville. I should be delighted, 
however, to make my ddbut in your company, so 
if the ladies will fix the day for our grand battue 
in Br^teche forest I will give the necessary or- 
ders at once.” 

“ Oh, that should be as the Duke says,” put in 
Arthur, not wanting Pontac to forget that he, too, 
was to be* of the party. “ Mons. de Bretteville 
has given me carte-blanche to arrange the matter, 
but he begs that the ladies will excuse him from 
taking part in the affair,” said Pontac, he is 
wrapped up in his grief ; and I have left him 
alone too long; it is time that I returned to Brette- 
ville.” 

Oh, will you not stay to dinner?” asked Uncle 
Armand. 

Thank you, but I must ask you to excuse me, 
Mons. de Bretteville is waiting for me, and if we 
are to have the shooting party this week, there 
are a great many preparations to make. 

“How would the day after to-morrow do?* 
said Mons. Dandria. 

“ Oh yes, that will be lovely !” cried Germaine, 
clapping her hands ; Ernestine and du Pourm^val 
agreed and Mme. Dandria raised no objections, 


/ DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 171 

though only half pleased with the plan, and then 
Roger Pontac took his leave, after declining, with 
man}^ thanks the use of Arthur’s carriage. 

It was decided that the rendezvous should be 
at the border of the Forest, at the foot of Lamon 
Rock, to which place the guests were to go in 
carriages, by the same road which Roger and 
Germaine had taken on a certain memorable occa- 


sion. 


172 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER X. 

Bretteville Castle was not at a great distance 
from La Geraldine, and Roger Pontac set out on 
foot, taking the path which ran through the gar- 
den and along the river-bank to the gate. On the 
way, therefore, he passed the place where the 
ferry used to be, and the idea struck him to go 
down to the edge of the water and examine the 
spot where the accident had occurred. He found 
there a piece of rope dangling from the post, and 
on taking it up he di.scovered that it was so rotten 
by long exposure to the weather that it was im- 
possible for it to have borne such a strain as that 
occasioned by a heavy boat, dragged along by a 
violent current of water. 

“ Of course it was an accident !” he said to him- 
self, “ this rope has probably seen twenty years of 
service, and it was not that poor vagabond’s fault 
that it snapped in two. To think that I, too, 
should be suspected ! And that Mons. Dandria 
should repeat such ridiculous tales! It is re- 
markable that no one has discovered that I am 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


173 


at the Duke de Bretteville’s, but I shall not wait 
to be sent for ; 1 shall go to Doctor Sully directly 
he returns from Paris, and ask him to go with me 
to this Lestrigon who has furnished Mons. Dan- 
dria with such valuable information. The thing 
shall be cleared up at once — as far as I am con- 
cerned. He gave one more look at the river, and 
at the top of the Vignemabs house, which was 
visible above the tree-tops, then returned to the 
pathway on the terrace, passed out of the gate of 
the park, and took the road to Bretteville ab- 
sorbed in thought. 

The day had been a most eventful one to him, 
for he bad come face to face with Arthur du 
Pourmeval, the man who was to deprive him not 
only of a fortune to which he was the natural 
heir, but also, apparently, of the hand of Germaine 
Dandria. He had seen and spoken to his success- 
ful rival, and he felt that the contest between the 
poor sub-lieutenant and the elegant millionaire 
was not an equal one. And yet, although Ger- 
maine had not said that she loved him, it was cer- 
tain that she cared nothing for du Pourmeval 
since she wished her sister to marry him. Roger 
Pontac did not altogether despair, and yet he 
hardly dared to hope; but of one thing he was 


174 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


convinced : it was useless for him to struggle 
against fate ; he loved, and he was ready to sacri- 
fice everything— military glory, hope of advance- 
ment, his whole career as a soldier — to his love ; 
for it seemed that he had only begun to live at the 
moment when the echoes of Lamon Rock had 
whispered in his ear the word Germaine. 

He walked along quickly, seeing and hearing 
nothing, paying no heed to the lovely vistas 
which opened to him at every turn in the road, 
nor to the river Beuvron which was flowing plac- 
idly, until suddenly a dark figure loomed up be- 
fore him, making a grotesque silhouette in the 
grey twilight. 

Roger Pontac was no coward, but he had 
learned in Africa that a man should instantly put 
himself on the defensive when he meets a 
stranger on a lonely road ; and putting his hand 
into his pocket, he drew out a small revolver, and 
then advanced toward the apparition, which, as 
he came nearer, proved to be a tall youth, clad in 
a suit made of rabbit’s skins and drenched with 
water from head to foot as if he had just come 
out of the Beuvron. This strange- looking individ- 
ual was looking at Pontac earnestly, but did not 
offer to come a step nearer ; it seemed as if he did 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


175 


not wish to leave the river, which was evidently 
his line of retreat ; his attitude had nothing hos- 
tile about it, but was more that of curiosity. 
Roger guessed at once that this was the poacher 
of whom the Dandrias had been speaking, the per- 
son who was supposed to be the accomplice of 
Mme. Vignemal’s cousin. It was a good oppor- 
tunity to have some conversation with the fellow, 
so he went up to him saying : 

“Good evening, Roland.” 

“You know me?” asked the other, astonished. 

“ No, I do not, but they say that you know 
me.” 

“ I have never seen you until a few minutes ago 
— when you were looking at the broken rope over 
there I was just opposite you, on the other side 
of the Beuvron.” 

“ Then you have crossed the river, but where is 
the bridge?” 

“ Nowhere, I swam.” 

“You must be soaked through! Arc you not 
afraid — ” 

“ I am not afraid of anything.” 

“ Not even the Law, it seems.” 

“ You mean the keepers? I laugh at them, they 
cannot catch me.” 


176 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ But the police can, and you will find yourself 
in jail some day.” 

“ Why^I have not murdered any one, nor stolen 
anything.” 

“ Are you sure of that ?” 

“Taking a few hares from the forest and fish 
from the river is not stealing.” 

“ Ask Mons. Dandria what he thinks of you.” 

“ Have you just come from La Geraldine?’’ 

“You know I have. You saw me on the 
grounds.” 

“ Is this the first time you have been there ? 

“ No, the second.” 

“You are not from Arcy, I think.” 

“You are very inquisitive, my friend, but I will 
answer your questions if you will promise to an- 
swer mine. I am not from Arcy, but I know a 
great many people there — Doctor Sully is one.” 

“Doctor Sully! Has he spoken to you about 
me !” ’ 

“Yes, and he has a very good opinion of you, 
but every one does not agree with him. Mons. 
Dandria believes that you helped the Vignemal’s 
to their death.” 

“ He knows better than that ; he was there when 
I tried to save them.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


177 


“The public prosecutor was not though, and it 
is he that accuses you.” 

“ I dare say. He questioned me the other day 
at Fougera}^ and would have arrested me then if 
he had dared, but he could find nothing against 
me.” 

“ Do you know the heirs of Mons. and Mme. 
Vignemal ?” 

“The heirs f* 

“Yes, the persons who will have their money 
and property.” 

“ I heard that the husband had a nephew, and 
the wife some cousins, but I have never troubled 
myself about them.” 

“ You do not know a man named Pontac T 

“ No, I never heard of him.” 

“ Nor, dll Pourmeval either?” 

“ Oh yes, I have often seen that one. Fo^r the 
last six months he has come to La Geraldine 
nearly every day.” 

“ You seem to mount guard over Mme. Dan- 
dria’s property.” 

“ I see every one who comes or goes there.” 

“ You did not see me.” 

“ I have just swam across the river so as to look 
at you.” 


178 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“Well, now that you have looked at me, what 
do you think of me ?” 

“ I think that if you are the Doctor’s friend, you 
must be a good man.” 

“ Mons. du Poiirni^val is his friend, too.” 

“ Oh, I hate himr 

“ Why, what has he done to you, Roland ?” 

“ Nothing ; he does not even know of my ex- 
istence, but I don’t like him.” 

“ Then you will be sorry to hear that by his 
uncle’s death, he becomes the master of Fou- 
geray ?” 

“ That is nothing to me.” 

“ He will be the Dandrias’ neighbor then, and 
very likely will marry one of the young ladies.” 

“Which one?” asked the Bohemian, eagerly. 

“ Ask him the next time you see him,” said 
Roger, smiling, “ he knows more about it than I 
do. I am not in the family secrets.” 

“ You do not come as a suitor ?” asked Roland, 
with some hesitation. 

“ Oh, I have no inheritance, and no one would 
have a poor devil who possesses nothing but his 
military rank.” 

“ You are a soldier then?” 

“Yes, a cavalry-officer; and I enlisted as a pri- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


179 


vate — you ought to do likewise, it would be the 
best thing for you.” 

Yes, I thought of it once, but, I don’t want 

to.” 

‘•Why not? You were made to sit a horse, 
you are just the figure for it, and you are strong, 
brave, and accustomed to hardships. The life of 
a Chasseur d ' Afrique would suit you to a nicety.” 

“ Pretty soon, perhaps, but not now. I would 
rather be what I am.” 

“ A marauder, a vagabond ! You will repent 
your choice before long, for the life you lead is 
sure to end badly, and that sooner than you think, 
perhaps. You are watched and you will be taken. 
Believe me, Roland, you have no time to lose. 
Come to me to-morrow at Bretteville Castle and 
I will give you a letter to the officer in command 
of my regiment at Castres, and the money for the 
journey. In six months you will be sent to my 
squadron ; you will see new lands, and you will use 
your gun ; and the next year you will enter a bri- 
gade. The police will not catch you then.” 

“You live at Bretteville; are you the Duke’s 

9 

son ? 

“ No, I am no relation to him, but I am visiting 
him at present. I shall expect you to-morrow, 


l8o A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

and if you like you can go and ask Dr. Sully’s 
advice.” 

Roger was interested in this young fellow, and 
sincerely wished to set him in the right path, and, 
as Roland hesitated to reply, he said authorita- 
tively : 

“Well, that is settled ; you will come to me 
and the next minute they both heard footsteps ap- 
proaching, and, looking round, saw a figure which 
seemed to have come from behind a large rock, 
moving slowly and noiselessly toward them. 

Roland instantly plunged into the river and be- 
gan swimming vigorously across, and Roger Pon- 
tac, astonished, turned toward the new-comer, 
who proved to be a peasant carrying a staff and 
wearing a broad-brimmed hat. 

Before Roger had time to speak, the stranger 
addressed him in a familiar tone. 

“ So it is you, my lad ! I thought I knew your 
voice.” 

“ Be off with you !” said Pontac, thinking the 
man was intoxicated ; “you have made a mistake.” 

“ No I haven’t, iny dear. I went to Bretteville 
Castle and the servants said you had gone to make 
a visit at La Geraldine. That is why I came here. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. l8l 

I thought I should find you, and I was right. You 
have changed a good deal since you left home.” 

“ Who are you ?” asked Pontac coldly. 

“ Pierre Lemale, your cousin, Roger. Don’t 
you know me? When your father was -diving I 
kept an inn down near the bridge, and you have 
had more than one glass of cider there, when you 
were a little chap.” 

As he was speaking, Roger Pontac gradually 
recalled to his mind this cousin of his, and remem- 
bered that his father had had a very bad opinion 
of the fellow, and had even forbidden him to set 
foot on the Pontac farm. 

“Well?” he said, in a tone that was not at all 
cousinly, “ what do you want ?” 

“ How haughty you are, Roger !” cried the 
man ; “ you speak to me as if I were a beggar. 
But I am not that yet, thank Heaven !” My inn 
did not do well, for I gave credit to some rascals 
who cheated me, and 1 had to sell out, and for the 
last twenty years I have been going round the 
country with a pack on my back. But I have not 
asked charity of any one.” 

“ Then what do you want of me?” 

“ What a question to ask ! You know that our 
cousin Vignemal is dead, and that we must put in 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE, 


our claim to the property. I was at Laval when 
I saw the news in a paper, and I came here at 
once, ril wager that I know more than you do 
about this business of ours.” 

“ Ours!" repeated Roger,' disdainfully ; “ you 
need not suppose that I have anything in common 
with you." 

“ Well, that’s a good joke !” cried Lemale ; “ do 
you mean to say that we are not related in the 
same degree to the defunct Vignernal? Have we 
not the same interest in her fortune ? One-sixth is 
what we will each have, for, unfortunately, there 
are four more of us — the two Langlois girls, little 
Lemerlieu, of Courtil, and the lad Reuben, who 
has the Chanterie farm at Saint Meichel. We are 
all the children of her first cousins, and 1 have 
been to all the rest about this business. You were 
the only one missing.” 

“ How did you know where to find me ?” 

“ The gardener of Fougeray said he had seen 
you round there, and I had already seen your 
name in the newspaper account of the battle where 
the Duke’s son was killed. So I thought you 
would likely be at the castle, and to the castle I 
went as fast as I could.” 

“You might have spared yourself the trouble. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


183 

for I tell you once and for all I shall have nothing 
to do with this matter. You and the other four 
are free to do as you like about it.” 

You don’t mean to say — why, Roger, think of 
it ! The old woman left at least three millions ! 
You would have — ” 

“ If she had left ten millions it would make no 
difference to me.” 

“You must be rich already, then.” 

“ I am not rich, and it is for that reason thatJ 
do not mean to involve myself in this business. 

“ Well, for all that, you ought to help us poor 
people ; you are a gentleman; you could talk with 
the judges.” 

“It would be useless. Mons. Arthur du Pour- 
m^val will inherit the whole fortune. My advice 
to you is, to relinquish your claims ; the lawyers 
will only take your money and you will gain noth- 
ing.” 

“ I know a lawyer who will take the case for 
nothing ; that is, he will not ask pay unless we 
win.” 

“ He does not know as much about the case as 
I do, then ; and, in any event, you need not count 
on me for assistance ; remember that. Good after- 


184 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


noon,” and Pontac turned his back suddenly and 
continued his way. 

The ex-innkeeper, though, ran after him, deter- 
mined not to be put off so unceremoniously ; but 
he evidently thought it wise to drop the tone of 
impudent familiarity which thus far he had used. 

“ I hope I have not offended you, cousin,” he 
began, walking at Roger’s side ; “ I know I have 
been too familiar. It is different now from what 
it used to be ; you are a cavalry-officer and I am 
only a poor peddler, and the rest are not much 
better. We ought to be respectful to you; and 
you need not be afraid that I shall go round boast- 
ing that you are my cousin. I did not tell them 
so at the Castle, and I shall not ro back there 
with you, but shall leave you when we get to the 
Grand-charnps road, which is only a few steps from 
here. Meanwhile, we can talk a bit, can’t we?” 

“ As you like,” answered Roger, dryly, but I 
warn you that I shall not alter my mind.” 

Oh, 1 am not going to ask you to do that. 
But I can tell you something that will surprise 
you ; they say that the husband was living when 
the boat was swamped down at the bridge. That 
may all be, but at the very same moment the wife 
was alive too !” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


185 


“ How do you know ?” 

“ I know who does know. Some one who is no 
stranger to you.” 

“ To me !” 

“ You were speaking to him a few minutes ago, 
and it looked as if he did not want to be seen with 
you, for he leaped into the river the moment I 
showed myself.” 

“You must have good eyes, to recognize a 
person by this light.” 

“Oh, no one would mistake Roland Ferrer; he 
does not look like any one else, and no other man 
would swim across the Beuvron to save himself a 
walk. He was on the spot the other night when 
the rope of the ferry broke ; I suppose he has told 
you about it.” 

“ He has not told me anything at all about it ; I 
never saw him before in my life.” 

“Well, that’s queer! You were talking to- 
gether as if you were old friends, and you told 
him to come to you at the Castle.” 

“ It seems that you took upon yourself to listen 
to what we said.” 

“ No, no, I only wanted to make sure that it 
was you before I spoke. The moment I heard 
your voice I came out, and it is a great pity that 


l86 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

Roland Ferres ran away ; I should have liked to 
speak to him, for I know very well that he could 
help us if he chose ; he saw the whole affair.” 

“ If betakes my advice he will leave the country 
and go into the army.” 

“ He must not go before he has given testimony 
in our case ! The lawyer says that everything de- 
pends on his confessing.” 

“ Confessing what ? Does this lawyer, too, sus- 
pect him of drowning the Vignemals ! It is ab- 
surd.” ^ 

“ He did not say that he suspected him ; but 
look you, cousin, Roland Ferrer has a very bad 
name about here, and he owed the Vignemals a 
grudge for setting their people to catch him.” 

“He would not murder them for that! But 
there is a still more improbable story afloat. They 
pretend that / paid Roland Ferrer to assassinate 
my cousin ‘Vignemal !’ 

“ Who got up such a tale as that?” 

“ A magistrate, it seems, but I shall go to him 
and put an end to these rumors — ” 

“ No one but the gardener of Fougeray has 
recognized you, and I am the only one who 
knows where you live.” 

“ They are looking for me, I hear.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


8? 


“ But they will not find you — unless I speak.” 

“Oh, you can speak; I am not in hiding, I will 
go and tell them who I am, and that I do not 
want a dollar of my cousin’s money ; I am quite 
willing to renounce my share of the inheritance, 
formally, in writing if they like.” 

“ Well, that would leave more for those who 
do not renounce their share ; but you would do 
better to join us, cousin. Of course, I am not 
going to tell any one that I saw you talking to 
Roland Ferrer toward nightfall, on a lonely road 
close to the spot where the Vignemals came to 
their death. Here is the Grand-champs road ; I 
am going one way and you the other ; but think 
over what I have said. Good-bye, cousin, till we 
meet again !” 

Saying which, the fellow turned abruptly to the 
right and disappeared in the falling shadows, and 
Roger Pontac made no attempt to call him back, 
but quickened his steps in the opposite direction. 
His conversation with Lemale, which at first was 
only tiresome, had ended by being seriously an- 
noying, for the man’s hints and innuendoes made 
him repulsive to the frank young officer, who 
knew that his plebeian relation must have some 
purpose in coming to intercept him. 


i88 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ He wanted to sound me,” thought Roger, and 
I am certain that he was listening behind that 
rock; probably he has been watching me for some 
time past ; and who knows — perhaps it was he who 
originated the idea of Roland Ferrer’s having 
drowned Mme. Vignemal at my instigation ! It 
might be an effectual means of having me ex- 
cluded from the succession ; and if he can really 
prove that Mme. Vignemal survived her husband 
he and the other four will have the fortune. His 
last words sounded like a warning — almost a 
threat. It was as if he said : “ If you will join us I 
shall be silent, but if not I shall tell how and 
where I surprised you and Ferrer talking ear- 
nestly together, as if met by appointment.” And, 
indeed, I should be troubled to prove that my 
meeting with that strange youth was purely acci- 
dental. I do not see why the deuce he should 
swim across the Beuvron for the pleasure of look- 
ing at me ; I ought to have asked him what he did 
it for, and why he thinks necessary to inspect all 
the gentlemen visitors of La Geraldine. He 
asked me if I came as a suitor, and he said that 
he hated du Pourm^val. Ah, I have it! He is 
in love with one of the young ladies. I believe 
the fellow is quite capable of such a thing !” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 1 89 

Pontac’s thoughts soon reverted to his own 
affairs again, for the vagaries of a poacher were 
comparatively of small importance. After a long 
silence he said aloud. “ It is my own fault ; I 
ought to have gone about and shown myself, and 
told everyone that I wasMme. Vignemal’s cousin, 
instead of staying hidden at Bretteville as if I 
were ashamed to be seen. Doctor Sully made a 
mistake and gave me bad advice, but I will see 
Mons. Lestrigon and put an end to ail this mys- 
tery and misunderstanding. I would go to-mor- 
row if I were not obliged to make the arrange- 
ments for the shooting-party, and the next day 1 
shall have an opportunity of asking Mons. Ar- 
mand Dandria to introduce me to the magistrate. 
Miss Germaine wants me to preserve my incognito 
for the present, but she does not know how the 
matter stands. When I tell her she will approve 
of my decision." 

He was right there, but he did not know that 
Ernestine was about to take a role in the drama of 
which he himself was the hero. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


190 


CHAPTER XI. 

The dinners at La Geraldine were always very 
gay, the table abundantly supplied and well at- 
tended, and the cooking excellent; what was still 
more important, the Dandrias had good appetites 
and sound digestions. Conversation never lan- 
guished, even when the family dined alone; Mme. 
Dandria gave no grand dinners with invitations 
two weeks in advance, as was the custom with 
the people of Arcy. Her guests dropped in 
whenever they felt inclined, and they were al- 
ways made welcome. 

On the day that Arthur du Pourmeval and 
Roger Pontac met at La Geraldine the former 
stayed to dine, as he felt that the fact of his being 
in mourning need not prevent his sitting down to 
a social meal with such intimate friends. During 
dinner the shooting-expedition formed the chief 
topic of conversation, and every one was loud in 
praise of the Duke de Bretteville’s courteous be- 
havior. Arthur du Pourmeval was all devotion 
to Germaine, but she received his attentions in 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 191 

such ^ way that he could not tell whether they 
pleased her or whether she was secretly laughing 
at his complimentary ^speeches; and so, being 
somewhat ill at ease, he took his leave much 
earlier than usual. 

Mens. Dandria and Alfred went to the front 
door to see him into his carriage, and Mme. Dan- 
dria left the room for a minute to give an order to 
a servant. No sooner was her mother out of 
hearing than Germaine turned to Ernestine and 
said in a low tone : 

“ It seems to me that you have been colder to 
the splendid Arthur this evening than usual ; but 
you are right; that is the best way to treat a man 
sometimes, even if you hapen to love him — ” 

Ernestine interrupted with a gesture of impa- 
tience, but Germaine went on smilingly. 

As for me I don’t like him at all. Perhaps 
you don’t believe that. What would you say if I 
were to tell you that I love — another f 

Just at that moment Mme. Dandria and her 
brother reappeared ; Alfred had gone to bed, 
wishing to make up for the previous night spent 
in playing baccarat. 

“ Our young friend is certainly a very fine fel- 
low,” said Mons. Dandria. 


192 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“Which one?” asked Germaine, mischievously. 

“Arthur, of course.” The lieutenant is all very 
well, but he is only a bird of passage, while du 
Pourmeval is master of Fougeray, and our neigh- 
bor.” 

“ Not yet, uncle. Did you not say that it de- 
pended upon Roland Ferrer? If he were to say 
that Mme. Vignemal was alive when he saw her 
on the bank, Mons. du Pourmeval’s inheritance 
would end in smoke, would it not?” 

“ It is not likely that the Bohemian would be 
believed, even if he were to be paid to contradict 
his first statement.” 

“ So be it !” said Germaine, yawning, “ let us go 
to bed ;” and the rest agreed, although it was not 
yet ten o’clock. 

All the family slept on the second story, except 
Alfred, whose room was on the ground floor, as 
he liked to be near the front door, so that he could 
go out at night, jump on Ralph’s back, and ride 
to the club at Arcy, to indulge in a game of cards 
whenever the desire seized him ; Mme Dandria’s 
bed-room was situated between Ernestine’s and 
Germaine’s, while Uncle Armand’s was at the 
other end of the hall. 

This story of the house was arranged like a 


A DISPUT£D INHERITANCE. 


93 


barracks; a long corridor ran from one side to 
the other with several doors opening into it, and 
at one end was a small back stair-case ; the ladies' 
rooms looked out on the garden ; Mons. Dandria’s 
on the yard. 

Ernestine had no sooner entered her room than 
she locked and bolted the door, and then, exclaim- 
ing suddenly — 

“ Now I can weep in peace !” she threw herself 
into an arm-chair and burst into tears. 

She had forced herself to control her feelings, 
and to conceal her mental suffering until now, for 
she did not want any one to pity her, and her 
mother and uncle had no idea that du Pourme- 
val’s desertion had affected her more seriously than 
to wound her pride ; Germaine had not been so 
deceived, but she had her own plans, and in the 
meanwhile thought it best not to probe a wound 
which she believed herself capable of curing; 
Ernestine, therefore, was obliged to nurse her 
grief in silence. 

Dissimulation and coquetry, weapons to which 
a more worldly woman would have had recourse, 
were such strangers to Ernestine’s nature, tiiat 
she would rather have died of a broken heart than 
to attempt to win back the man who had deceived 


194 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


her, or to try to make him believe that his change 
of sentiments was a matter of indifference to her. 
When she first heard of his offering himself to 
Germaine she could hardly believe her senses, but 
pride coming to her reserve she had responded to 
her mother’s questioning glance b}^ saying Mons. 
du Pourm^val was perfectly free to marry whom 
he pleased. It seemed to her that there must be 
some mistake ; perhaps Arthur du Pourmeval had 
been offended or misled by her reserved manner, 
and she waited with feverish anxiety to see him 
again and to hear his explanation. 

The opportunity presented itself when Ger- 
maine and Roger Pontac were at the piano and 
the rest of the family out of hearing, but while 
the lieutenant was singing in Arabic the message 
carried by the “ sweet bird to the loved one,” 
Ernestine was gradually realizing that her life was 
wrecked. 

Du Pourmeval’s awkward protestations and 
excuses dispelled her last illusion, and she saw 
him as he was — a fickle lovelace who changed his 
loves when his fortunes altered, and who did not 
scruple to feign a passion which he was incapable 
of feeling. It did not take Ernestine very long to 
comprehend his interested motives, his mean cal- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


195 


culations and sordid ambition, and she saw that he 
was not worthy of her affection ; she despised her- 
self for having loved him. 

“ No, I do 7iot love him,” she said, drying her 
eyes, “ 1 hate him, and I shall be revenged on him. 
He shall not deceive Germaine too. She has just 
told me that she cares nothing for him, and Ger- 
maine would not tell an untruth ; but yet she re- 
ceives him ; she encourages him to come here 
can it be that she is in earnest, that she really ex- 
pects to bring him back to me? If so, she is very 
foolish ; she could refuse him, herself, but with all 
his audacity he would not dare to come to me 
again. And yet, it is more than likely that he will 
succeed in convincing her that he has loved her 
all along, in spite of appearances ; for why should 
she be less credulous than I was ? 

What was it she gave me to understand a few 
minutes ago ? That she is already engaged to 
some one else ? That can not be possible, for she 
makes fun of every young man that visits here. 
It could not be that officer who sang to her ac- 
companiment, for she has only seen him twice, 
and they have not exchanged ten words. She 
must have said that merely to reassure me ; there 
is nothing at all to prevent her from falling into 


196 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


the snare of that traitor, for everyone, excepting 
me, is urging her on. Mamma, uncle, Alfred, all 
three, approve of Arthur du Pourmeval, and they 
will give her no rest until she accepts him. God 
is my witness that if I thought she loved him I 
would sacrifice everything, even my revenge, and 
forgive Arthur du Pourmeval the injury he has 
done me ; but I know that he would make her 
wretched ; he would forsake her as he has forsaken 
me. That shall not be, for I will prevent it !'’ she 
said, solemnly, getting up from her chair and 
pacing the floor. 

A wood fire was burning on the hearth, and 
the soft glimmering of a small night-lamp lighted 
up the white marble chimney-piece and the grey 
hangings of the room. On the floor at the foot 
of the bed lay a large Danish dog, of a breed that 
was almost extinct ; he was a great pet, and was 
allowed to sleep in Ernestine’s and Germaine’s 
rooms alternately. 

To-night it was the elder sister’s turn to have 
him, but her thoughts were so preoccupied that 
she took no notice of his caresses, and the dog, 
discouraged at last, went and lay down at a short 
distance from her, but kept his eyes on her face, 
and so followed her every movement. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


197 


Ernestine was walking slowly up and down the 
room — that room in which she had spent so many 
happy hours. Less expansive than her sister, she 
had always had a great love for solitude, and often 
passed the whole day alone in this quiet nook be- 
fore her easel. From the window she could see 
over the tall trees of the park to the clear waters 
of the Beuvron; then the woods of Fougeray, and 
be3’ond all, a long ridge of blue hills, against the 
horizon. She was not romantic like Germaine, 
having no desire for adventures in the wood^ and 
the meeting at Lamon Rock would not have 
made any special impression on her ; she was 
more meditative and reserved by nature, and it 
was not until she had studied the character of 
Arthur du Pourm^val, that she made any response 
to his advances. Then, little by little, she had 
come to love him, although she was by no means 
blind to his faults. She saw plainly that he 
lacked energy and force, and that if left to himself 
he would probably be ruined by his love of spend- 
ing, as his father had been before him ; but all this 
she forgave because she thought him upright and 
sincere, and she thought, too, that it was her mis- 
sion to perfect his character. 

He had always represented himself tired of 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


198 

pleasure-seeking and anxious to settle down to a 
different sort of life, and Ernestine had believed 
him and resolved to marry no one else. She was 
only waiting for his formal declaration, to engage 
herself to him, and to open her heart to her 
mother in whom thus far, she had not confided. 

One hour, however, had sufficed to wake her 
from her happy dream, to overthrow her castle- 
in-the-air, and the only thing she thought of now 
was to punish the one who had so cruelly misled 
her. . 

'‘Yes,” she murmured, “he shall expiate his 
treason, Germaine shall refuse him ; he shall see 
that his money cannot buy all he wants. And this 
wealth, this inheritance — he does not deserve to 
have it.” 

She went to the window and looked out toward 
the river. 

“ It was there that the poacher saw Mine. Vigne- 
mal on the bank,” she continued ; “ was she really 
dead ? What if he were to swear that she 
was not? Uncle Armand said that Roland Fer- 
rer’s testimony was the only thing Arthur du 
Pourm^val need fear. And Roland Ferrer will 
speak if I wish it ! He said he would do anything 
I commanded ; that I had only to show a light rn 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


199 


my window — ” She seized the lamp and stood it 
on the window-sill without giving herself time to 
reflect on what she was doing. Just then the 
huge dog got up and put his cold nose against her 
hand, and looked into her face lovingly, as if to 
say, “ I will protect you against everything; speak 
to me and this simple action recalled Ernestine 
to her senses, and showed her the seriousness of 
the step she was contemplating. 

To go alone, at night, into the park to meet Ro- 
land Ferrer, a desperate fellow who had had the 
audacity to love her and to tell her so ! It would 
be madness. Germaine even, with all her giddi- 
ness, would not be guilty of such a compromising 
action. 

Besides,” she said to herself, I should only 
waste my time going down to the river; for ft is 
not in the least likely that Roland Ferrer will be 
there ; how should he know that I want to see 
him? He does not spend all his time looking at 
my window. I must give up the idea of interfer- 
ing between Arthur du Pourm^val and his fort- 
une.” 

With a sigh she was turning away from the 
window^ but suddenly caught sight of a small light 
in the bushes at the end of the garden. It was a 


200 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


mere speck in the darkness but seemed to move 
up and down like a signal. 

“He is there!” she cried excitedly; “he has 
seen my lamp. Then it is true that he watches 
my window, as he said. He has kept his promise ; 
he has come the moment I signed for him ; and 
shall I reward his devotion by making him think 
that I am mocking him ? I cannot do it, and be- 
sides I dare not, for w^hat would be the result? In 
all probability he would come and call me, or per- 
haps climb up to the window here. What would 
Uncle think ? If he were to catch sight of Roland 
Ferrer near the house he would not hesitate to 
shoot him dead on the spot. I shall have to go ; 
Belt, you will be my protector, will you not ?” she 
said, putting her hand on the dog’s head. She 
turned down the lamp ; then wrapped a large cloak 
about her, and, as she did so, said, hurriedly, try 
ing to reassure herself : 

“ I have nothing to fear from Roland Ferrer, for 
was I not at his mercy when Germaine’s horse 
ran away, and Uncle was far behind us? And he 
only held my bridle and said that he would be my 
slave ; that I had but to tell him what I wished 
him to do ,* that he awaited my orders ; besides, 
the river is not so far off ; my voice could be heard 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


201 


at the house if I called, and I shall have Belt ; 
there is no possible danger.” 

The wild beating of her heart seemed to contra- 
dict her words ; for, in spite of her confident tone, 
she realized fully the rashness of the step she was 
taking, and at the same time she knew that there 
was more risk in not going. 

“Come, Belt!” she said, opening the door of 
the room cautiously. 

The dog jumped up and followed her, walking 
as quietly as if he knew that she did not want to 
rouse any one ; there was a matting on the floor of 
the hall ; the walls were very thick ; not a sound 
was to be heard in the house. Ernestine carried 
a small lantern in her hand, and by the aid of its 
light she went straight to the back stair-case, at 
the bottom of which was a door opening into the 
garden. 

In another minute she was outside. 


202 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER XII. 

The little light in the bushes was not to be seen, 
but Ernestine felt sure that she would find Roland 
Ferrer “ on the terrace at the end of the hedge,” 
the spot which he himself had indicated to her. 

She was not frightened, now that she had gone 
thus far, for she felt complete confidence in Ro- 
land, though if any one had asked her on what she 
founded her trust she would have had some diffi- 
culty in explaining. It was an intuition. She 
crossed the garden and went up to the top of the 
terrace. Belt walking in front of her; but they had 
hardly taken ten steps when the dog raised his 
head suddenly, sniffed the air for a moment, then 
darted off with the speed of an arrow, and disap- 
peared in the darkness. 

“ He knows him,” she thought to herself, that 
is fortunate, for Belt might have barked on seeing 
a stranger. I had not thought of that.” 

It now occurred to her, however, that she could 
not now rely on the dog for protection, as he had 
evidently gone over to the enemy ; but the next 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


203 


minute he reappeared, and began gambolling 
round her joyfully, then rushing off again, and re- 
turning to repeat the operation. He was saying 
as plainly as dog could say : 

I have found a friend ; you will see him in a 
minute.” 

Ernestine stopped to look about her and to lis- 
ten. There was nothing to disturb the stillness of 
the night except the west wind rustling in the 
tamarisk-hedges ; she looked toward the house ; 
every window was darkened ; the whole place was 
wrapped in sleep. 

Then she felt how alone she was, and that she 
had no one but herself to lean on ; but she did not 
lose her courage or self-reliance, and, advancing 
bravely to the end of the hedge, saw first her dog, 
then Roland Ferrer. The poacher was standing 
with his back resting against the trunk of an oak- 
tree, but on seeing her he came forward hastily. 

I have come here, because I know that I can 
trust to you,” she began in a slightly trembling 
voice, and he, hardly less moved than she, replied : 

‘‘ I thank you for that ; I hardly dared hope 
that you would remember me; and, now that I see 
you have not forgotten that I long to serve you, 
I am sufficiently repaid beforehand for anything 


204 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


you may ask of me. The people round here shun 
me, but you are not afraid to come to speak to 
me — ” 

‘‘ Let me explain why I have such confidence in 
you,” she said hastily. “ Dr. Sully spoke so 
well of you that I should have sent for you to 
come to the house if it had not been for the way 
you addressed me in the Tertre woods the other 
day.” 

I know it was madness — forgive me, I beg of 
you !” 

I forgive you, because I know you see your 
folly ; if I had not felt sure of that I would not 
have come here to-night.” And, after a pause, 
she said : “ I see now that I was right in not be- 
lieving those who spoke ill of you, for Belt would 
not have let you come here if you were a robber. 
He seems to know you.” 

“ He comes to see me every evening, and we 
have dinner together in my hut on the other side 
of the river.” 

“ Do you live near here ?” she asked. 

“ Yes, just opposite your window, and I can see 
it through the bushes. I know exactly when you 
light your lamp, and when you put it out every 
night.” ■ 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


205 


That is how you were able to answer my sig- 
nal so quickly, then ; you have a lantern, have you 
not?” 

“ No, it is a torch that I made myself. The 
pines of Fougeray furnished me with resin ; you 
see 1 am not much better than my reputation ; I 
help myself to other peoples’ property.” 

Which you will have to cease doing if you 
want to see me again,” she said ; “ but it is time I 
told yo’i why I am here. I want you to give me 
some information.” 

Roland Ferrer made a gesture of disappoint- 
ment and Ernestine told herself that she need not 
have dreaded this interview, for there was noth- 
ing alarming about the young outlaw ; she had 
judged him aright the first time he had spoken to 
her. 

'' You witnessed the accident at the ferry, I be- 
lieve,” she continued. 

Yes,’’ he replied, looking up quickly; “I was 
there when the rope broke.” 

“And you threw yourself into the water to 
save our unfortunate neighbors? And you drew 
the body of Mme. Vignemal on to the bank, but 
the water washed it back again ?” 


2o6 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“Yes, it washed it back again,” he repeated 
slowly. 

“ I want to know whether everything happened 
exactly as you told my uncle and the doctor.” 

“ Do you think that I lied ?” 

“ I think that you may have had some reason 
for not telling the luJiole truth.” 

Roland started, and then looked at her fixedly. 

“ Of course I have no right to question you,” 
she said, smiling, “ and you are free to answer me 
or not, as you choose.” 

“ I have sworn to obey you. Ask what you 
like ; I shall conceal nothing from you,” he replied. 

“ Well, I have an idea that Mme. Vignema Iwas 
still living when you last saw her on the bank. 
You said that you did not know whether she 
were dead or not, but afterward declared that 
she was.” 

“ A magistrate questioned me at Fougeray,” 
said Roland, evidently troubled by her words. 

“ Yes, but you are speaking now, not to a mag- 
istrate but — a sincere frierid. Was Mme. Vigne- 
mal alive or not ?” 

“ She was.” 

“ You are sure of that?” 

“Yes, sure-— now.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


207 


“ New ? Did you doubt it at first ! 

I did not doubt it, but I had no proof. I have 
one now.” 

Can you show your proof?” 

“To you, yes. I can prove that she came to 
herself while I was gone to your house for help !’’ 

“ How could you know what happened while 
you were absent?” 

“ If I tell you, )^ou will believe me?” 

“Certainly. Why should you tell a falsehood 
about it, when you need tell nothing if you choose 
to be silent?” 

“ I should not tell anything to any one but you ; 
I have said that I would give you my life, and 
when you have heard me you will look at me 
with horror — and that will kill me.” 

Ernestine turned pale as he spoke, for she saw 
that the suspicions entertained of him were cor- 
rect — he had committed a fearful crime. And 
this crime he was about to confess to her! In 
seeking for an ally against Arthur du Pourmeval 
she had encountered a murderer! Her first 
thought was to cut short the interview. 

“ No, no, do not tell me !” she cried ; “ you have 
said too much already.’* 

“Too much, and not enough,” he replied, as 


2o8 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


eagerly if I stop now you will think me a mur- 
derer. You must hear me through and judge me 
afterward.’’ 

Ernestine breathed freely again, and began to 
hope that he was not as guilty as she had thought. 
At all events she could not refuse to hear his ex- 
planation. 

Go on,” she murmured. 

I did not actually kill them,’’ he continued, 
“ but I did not prevent their death when I might 
have done so. I was hidden by the bushes when 
they passed, and I knew that the rope of the ferry 
was rotten and not strong enough to resist the 
current. I had known it for a month past, and if 
any one but the Vignemals had been going to use 
it I should have warned them ; but these two 
people I hated.” 

** Because they forbade you to poach in their 
woods. And for that you let them drown !” 

“ No, believe me, it was not that.” 

“ What then ?” 

“ I thought that they were going to your house. 
I believed — ” 

-What?” 

- That they were going to ask you in marriage 
for their nephew.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


209 


This unexpected answer struck Ernestine dumb 
for a moment. The fearful death of these two 
people was owing, then, to the insane passion with 
which she had unconsciously inspired Roland 
Ferrer! She herself was, though indirectly, the 
cause of the accident on the river! 

‘‘You know their nephew, then?” she stam- 
mered. 

“ I saw him come to your house every day, and 
I heard people say that you would be his wife. I 
would have killed him rather than have him marry 
you, so I let the Vignemals go to their death. 
That was a crime, you will say.” 

“ A crime ? No, not in the eyes of the law, but 
it is a deed for which your conscience will always 
reproach you.” 

“ I repented of it directly, and leaped into the 
river to save them. Your uncle saw me a little 
while afterward ; I was dripping wet, shivering 
with cold, and nearly exhausted by the struggle 
with the current ; I had been in the water for 
twenty minutes. I could have saved them if the 
boat had not capsized ; you know all about it. 
Your uncle must have told you what I told him, 
and I spoke the truth.” 


210 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ Not all the truth, for you gave them to under- 
stand that Mme. Vignemal was dead.” 

“ I did that because I was afraid they would 
suspect me of foul play ; and, indeed, my con- 
science was not altogether clear — ” 

“ Do you mean to say that you pushed ber back 
into the river ?” cried Ernestine, horror-stricken. 

“ I am not a murderer,” he answered, quietly ; 
no I tried my best to bring her to, after extricat- 
ing her feet from the roots of the willow-tree 
down there, just below us. I laid her down, and 
listened for her heart ; it was still beating. Her 
right hand was tightly clenched and held some 
small object which I tried to remove, but could 
not. I threw water in her face, she did not move 
a muscle ; I did not know what else to do for her, 
so I called for help, but no one came. Then I 
tried to lift her up, but she was very heavy and I 
was so exhausted by my efforts in the water that 
I could not raise her. I ought to have stayed 
there till some one came — bjut I was afraid ; it 
seemed to me that she was going to stand up and 
curse me, — I was tempted to throw her back into 
the river, but I took the middle course ; I left her 
where she was and went up to the house to sret 
help.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


2II 


And when you got back the river had washed 
her out again.” 

“ The river could not do it for I left her lying 
more than two yards from the brink. When i 
found that she was gone I thought the devil had 
taken her off bodily ; and not knowing what ex- 
planation to make to the gentlemen I told them 
the story that you have heard. It was not until 
the next day that I knew what had really hap- 
pened to her in my absence.” 

The next day !” said Ernestine in astonish- 
ment, “ can it be that you are telling me the 
truth ?” 

“ I swear that I am saying only what is true,” 
he answered. “ When I left your house that night 
I came down here, and at break of day examined 
the place where I had left the lady. The print 
of her body was plainly marked in the damp 
earth, and I saw at once what had happened. 
She had come to herself after I left, had crept on 
her knees to the foot of the terrace, and had tried 
to climb up. There were the marks of her hands, 
but her feet must have slipped — for a branch of 
tamarisk was broken from the hedge where she 
caught at it to save herself. The bank, you know, 
is very steep ; she lost her balance, fell backward, 


212 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


and sank into the water. That time it was all 
over with her.” 

Ernestine shuddered and there was a pause ; 
then she looked up suddenly : * 

“ But this is mere supposition ; you did not see 
it,” she said. 

“ There were the foot-prints in the earth, and 
the newly broken branch of tamarisk,” he an- 
swered. I am just as sure of it as if I had been 
there.” 

“ The marks would not have proved anything,” 
she said, incredulously ; and they are probably 
effaced by this time.” 

Would you like a proof of the truth of what I 
have told you?” he asked. 

I would indeed, if one exists.” 

“ Would you believe me if I were to show you 
the thing that Mme. Vignemal held in her hand 
at the moment that the boat capsized ?” 

“ Can you do so ?” 

I can. It was a flat leather case, which she 
must have carried in her bosom ; for when she was 
on the drifting boat I saw her beginning to un- 
fasten the body of her dress. When she was 
thrown onto the bank she held this case tightly in 
her hand, and she dropped it when she was try- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


213 


ing to climb up to the edge. I picked it up at 
the foot of the terrace the next morning.” 

And you kept it ?” asked Ernestine. 

“Yes, but I have not opened it; it is locked. 
No one will accuse me of stealing it. I put it 
away in a safe place, but if you want to see it you 
shall have it to-morrow.” 

After a long silence Ernestine answered slowly : 

“No, I do not want to see it. I only want to 
know that ^ou can prove what you have told me ; 
the truth must be made known here at La Ger- 
aldine, at Fougeray, at Arcy, and you are the only 
one to tell it. I cannot do it, because I was not a 
witness of the accident.” 

“And you will not be willing to tell that you 
came here to ask me about it,” he added sadly ; 
“ so I will speak out. Who must I go to — your 
uncle, or the Doctor?” 

“To Mons. Lestrigon, the president of the 
court,” she answered. 

“ I will do whatever you say, although it is the 
sacrifice of m}^ liberty you demand,” he said, in a 
low tone ; “ of my liberty, perhaps my life.” 

“ What do you mean ?” cried Ernestine. 

“I mean that the president of the court will 
send me to the prosecuting-attorney who will put 


214 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


me in prison, for he already suspects me of having 
drowned Mine. Vignemal ; every one will suspect 
me, for appearances are against me. I can prove 
that the lady was alive when I drew her on to the 
bank ; I can show them the leather case that she 
was grasping, but I have no means of proving that 
I did not rob her of it and then throw her into the* 
river. They will not believe my story, for they 
will say that I ought to have told it before. No 
lawyer will be able to clear me — my indictment 
will be my condemnation, and then I shall have 
nothing to do but to die.” 

Ernestine knew that he was not exaggerating ; 
that he would be quite capable of taking his own 
life if shut up in prison for several years or even 
months. Wild-birds can not live in cages. She 
reproached herself bitterly at the thought that she 
had nearly made a victim of this poor fellow, who 
in his devotion to her was ready to do her bidding 
without complaining, without hesitating, without 
even asking why he was to sacrifice himself and 
what was to be his reward ! She Avould rather a 
thousand times that Arthur du Pourmeval should 
inherit the fortune, than that Roland Ferrer should 
suffer for his fidelity to her. 

“No, you shall not do it,” she said, suddenly; 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


215 


you shall not tell anything at all. When I asked 
you to go to the magistrates I did not dream that 
you would be running any risk ; and now that I 
have heard your story I am convinced that you 
could do no good by speaking, for they would not 
believe you ; it would be utterly useless and you 
would be sacrificed for nothing. I will not have 
it.’^ 

“You do not abhor me, then, for what I have 
done?” he asked, eagerly. 

“ I pity you,” she answered, and then after a 
moment she went on : “ If you had not led such a 
wild, irregular life, no one would have thought of 
suspecting you of a crime, and your testimony 
would have been believed. You would then have 
been able to do, me a service.” 

“ I care nothing for the risk, mademoiselle ; I 
would not have spoken of it, only that when once 
I am in prison I shall never see you again ; this is 
my last opportunity of telling you that I would 
gladly die to serve you, and my last thought will 
be of you. To-morrow I will do your bidding.” 

“ Whatever it may be ?” she asked, hurriedly. 

“Yes, I shall go to Arcy — ” 

“ You will do nothing of the kind. If you want 
to please me, you will leave this country at once.” 


2i6 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


You would drive me away from you ?” 

It is for your own good ; you will certainly 
come to grief if you continue as you are. Besides, 
although I do not repent of having trusted you so 
completely as to come here to-night, I shall never 
do it again. You will not see me nor be of any 
use to me, for I shall not speak again to a poacher. 
You must be a soldier !” 

“You want me to sell myself,” he said. 

“ No, I do not. I want you to enlist in the 
army of Africa. You can repair your past by 
fighting for France, and some day you will come 
back an officer. There will be no necessity then 
for hiding in the woods to look at our house, but 
the door of La Geraldine will open to you and we 
shall be proud to receive you — just as at present 
we receive a neighbor of ours who had no more 
influenee and wealth than you have when he joined 
the army.” 

“ The young gentleman who lives at the Castle, 
you mean.” 

“ Yes, how do you know that?” 

“ I saw him to-day on the road by the river as 
ne was coming from your place, and he spoke to 


What could he have to say to you f 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


217 


He said what you have just said ; that I ought 
to stop being a poacher, and enter his squadron, 
and he told me that if I would go to see him at 
the Castle he would send me to where the fighting 
is.” 

“And what did you say to that?” 

“ I said that I was too fond of my liberty to take 
his advice.” 

“ But you will take mine, I know. Besides, I 
do not advise, but command you to go, and you 
have promised to obey me.” 

“ Yes, I will obey you.” 

“ Without delay, remember. Go to Mons. 
Pontac to-morrow ; he will do as he said for you, 
and in a few years you will cpme back a lieutenant, 
as he has done.” 

“No I shall not come back at all; I could not 
bear to see you — married.’’ 

“ I shall never marry !” she said, quickly. 

“ I thought Mons. du Pourm^val came for that! 
He is here every day, and he is a rich, handsome 
gentleman.” 

“ Not rich yet, but he will be so, for the Vigne- 
mals’ money will be his after all.” 

“ Has there been any doubt of his getting it ?” 

“Yes, for he will be required to prove that 


2i8 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Mons. Vignemal survived his wife, and that might 
have been difficult to do.’’ 

“ It will be so, for it is not the case. I saw 
Mme. Vignemal alive half an hour after the acci- 
dent happened, and it must have been at least fif- 
teen minutes more before she fell into the river 
again !” 

“ That may be, but you can not tell it without 
compromising yourself, and so I wish you to leave 
things as they are.” 

‘‘Then that man will inherit! But if I speak 
there will be a law-suit between him and the 
cousins of Mme. Vignemal.” 

“ He would lose it, but that would be only just,’’ 
she murmured. 

“ You would like him to lose it?” 

“ I must say that I am more interested in his 
cousins, who are hard-working peasants.” 

“ And he would only waste the money if he got 
it.” 

“ I can not say what use he would make of his 
fortune. Probably he would marry — and any 
mother would like to have him for a son-in-law.” 

“Yes, and any daughter would like to have him 
for a husband,” said Roland, between his clenched 
teeth 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


219 


Perhaps she might be obliged to like him,” 
answered Ernestine, speaking half to herself, “ but 
never mind Mons. du Pourmeval ; remember your 
promise. You will go to Lieutenant Pontac to- 
morrow, 1 shall see him the next day, for we are 
going out shooting in Br^tache forest, and I shall 
ask him if he has seen you.” 

Who is going with you ?” 

“ My mother, my uncle, my sister, and my 
brother. Why?” 

“ I wondered whether Mons. du Pourmeval 
would be there.” 

“ He is invited and has acepted, jDuPwhat is that 
to you ?” 

Oh, nothing ; I was only thinking that if I go 
to-morrow and tell the magistrates what happened 
on the bank of the Beuvron the young gentleman 
will not have much heart for pleasuring, and per- 
haps, too, he will not marry any one.” 

“ Probably not, for they say he is insolvent ; but 
you will have to pay dearly for the pleasure of 
ruining him, and I shall not thank you for it.” 

“ Why are you here then ? Why did you tell 
me, a moment ago, to confess everything?” 

I had a fancy to put you to the test, and be- 
sides, the poor relations of Mme. Vignemal inter- 


220 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


ested me ; but since I have found that you would be 
ruined by testifying in their behalf I have given 
up the idea entirely. I care nothing more about 
the matter, one way or the other. I am glad I 
came here, though, because I have obtained a 
promise from you which I know you will keep. 
Mons. du Pourmeval will become the master of 
Fougeray, but you need not grudge him his good 
fortune — your future will be a more enviable one 
than his.” 

Roland started but did not speak, not wishing 
to repeat a promise which he had decided not to 
keep since he had learned that Arthur du Pourme- 
val’s fate was in his hands. 

‘‘ I must go back,” said Ernestine ; “ if you 
want to ever see me again, you must forget this 
meeting. I shall remember it, and whatever be- 
comes of us both, I shall always be — your friend,” 
and with the last word she hesitated a little, then 
gave Roland her hand, which he raised to his lips 
as deferentially as Arthur du Pourmeval himself 
would have done in the drawing-room of La Ger- 
aldine. He did not speak again, but turned away 
quickly as she left him, and Ernestine, as she hur- 
ried across the garden, congratulated herself upon 
the result of her escapade. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


221 


Good has come out of evil this time,” she 
whispered. “ I thought to ruin one man, and I 
have saved another. Roland Ferrer will reform 
and Arthur du Pourmeval will have the fortune ; 
I alone will be wretched.’’ 

She did not know what was passing through 
Roland Ferrer’s mind at that moment. 

“ I know how it is !” he thought, shaking his 
fist at his absent enemy ; ‘‘ her mother is trying to 
force her to marry that man because he is to have 
the Vignemals’ money. 

She herself detests him, but will subniit rather 
than let me risk being convicted. But I will save 
her from this du Pourmeval ; I will go to prison, to 
the gallows, to the guillotine if need be ; what does 
it matter ? 

Mme. Dandria cares nothing for Roland Ferrer; 
she will never be mine, but she will not be hisy 
either — because he will not inherit !” 


222 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

Mons. Vaurinet believed that at last he had 
lighted upon a wind-fall, for he was in a fair way 
to realize, at a single stroke, a sum of money which 
would be sufficient to establish the poor Arcy law- 
yer in Paris, and put him on the high road, not to 
fame, but to fortune. 

That was his ambition ; to go to Paris, and open 
an office for the practice of his peculiar profession 
in all its branches ; for in the slow, one-horse town 
where fate had placed him there was but little 
opportunity for him to exercise his talents. Law- 
suits were very rare, and his clients were generally 
country clowns who insisted on reduced fees, and 
disputed the payments even when the cases were 
won. In short, Vaurinet felt that he was only 
vegetating ; he longed for a wider field of action, 
and was confident of success if onl}" he could raise 
the funds necessary for the entering stakes, and 
this “ Vignemal affair” seemed very likely to fur- 
nish the golden opportunity. 

By a lucky chance he had been the first to hear 
what had happened at the bridge, for he was ac- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


223 


quainted with the railway-employe to whom the 
traveller, Mons. Grandminard, had spoken, and this 
man had come to his friend Vaurinet and im- 
parted the important information of Mons. Vigne- 
mal having been seen on the drifting boat. The 
two worthies saw that the matter was worth fol- 
lowing up, for there was money in it, providing 
that Grandminard’s recital was not made public, 
and it was not likely that the gentleman would re- 
turn to his country-seat in the depth of winter. 
Possibly even he would never speak of the matter 
again, for he had no reason to be vain of the part 
he had played in it ; he would, perhaps, be satisfied 
wdth having informed a railway employ^ of what 
had happened. 

However, Vaurinet lost no time in intercepting 
Arthur du Pourmeval, and making an appointment 
with him for the evening following ; but on the 
very next day he heard, to his deep disgust, that 
Mons. Grandminard had come back to Arcy. 

There was then no chance of making anything 
out of Arthur du Pourmeval, but Mons. Vaurinet, 
although he saw that his hopes were again shat- 
tered, as they had often been before, did not de- 
spair, but made haste to seek out the relations of 
Mme. Vignemal, and offer them his assistance. 


224 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


It was three o’clock in the afternoon when he 
received the news of Mons. Grandminard’s ar- 
rival in town, and at five he was in the hamlet of 
Grand-champ, in close conversation with Pierre 
Lemale, who was the representative of Mme. 
Vignemal’s heirs. 

Lemale was just the man Vaurinet needed, for 
the lawyer’s first object was to open communica- 
tions with Roland Ferrer, who would be more 
easily persuaded to confide in a peasant than in a 
gentleman, and the former was accordingly di- 
rected to go into the woods of La Geraldine and 
Fougeray, seek out the young poacher, and, if pos- 
sible, draw him into conversation. 

“ Do your best to make him talk about the ac- 
cident,” said Vaurinet, “and meet me to-morrow 
at noon in the park. Everyone will be at dinner 
then, so we shall not be disturbed ; and if you have 
discovered anything of importance we will go at 
once to the prosecuting attorney.” 

Meinim Park was the less frequented of the two 
promenades of Arcy. It had formerly been the 
garden of a convent, which, after the revolution, 
had been turned into a court-house; and as the 
pathways were very dark and gloomy and the 
ground damp, there were never any children 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


225 


playing there, and few persons passed through 
the place except those engaged in law-business. 

Mons. Vaurinet arrived at the rendezvous five 
minutes before the appointed time, and as the 
last stroke of tzvelve was sounding Pierre Lemale, 
in a fine new blouse, appeared also. 

“ I could not put my finger on that rascal Ro- 
land Ferrer,” he began ; “ but for all that I have 
news for you.” 

“ I don’t care anything about your news if you 
have not found the poacher,” said Vaurinet, 
sharply. 

“ I saw him, but I could not speak to him !” 

“You saw, him and you could not speak to 
him !” repeated the lawyer; “ what do you mean 
by that?” 

“ Have patience, sir ; I will tell you what I 
mean. You say that the prosecuting attorney 
suspects Roland Ferrer and my cousin Roger of 
plotting to kill Mme. Vignemal. Well, I have 
spotted Roger Pontac ; he lives at Bretteville 
Castle.” 

“ What ! with the Duke ?” 

Yes, indeed ; the boy has become an officer, 
and he knew the Duke’s son in Africa. That is 
why the old man has taken him up. He is a big 


226 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


fellow now, I tell you ; when I asked to see him 
the Duke’s servants stared at me from head to foot 
before they answered my question.” 

“ Did you say you were his cousin ?” 

“ Not I, indeed ; I wanted to try and speak to 
him, first of all, and I knew he would not thank 
me for claiming kinship with him. The young 
gentleman was out calling — at La Geraldine, I 
(suppose he has his eye on one of the young 
ladies); so I waited on the road for him, and pretty 
soon I spied him near the river talking to — who 
do you think?” 

“ The young lady ?” 

Roland Ferrer !” 

Do you mean it ?” cried Vaurinet. 

Talking to Roland Ferrer, after nightfall, on a 
quiet road close to the river,” repeated Lemale, 
solcmnl3\ ‘‘ Suspicious, isn’t it?” 

“ The devil — it is ! Did you hear what they were 
sa^’ing ?” 

Only the last few words. Pontac told the 
poacher to come toThim at the castle to-day.” 

And did Roland say he would go ?” 

No, for I was stupid enough to show myself 
at that moment, and the rascallion jumped into 
the river and began swimming across.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


227 


“ Better and better — for us. Did you go and 
speak to your cousin then ?” 

“ Yes, but he treated me as if I was a dog. 1 
did not let him shake me off, though, and we 
walked half-way to the castle together, talking 
about the Vignemnl property all the time.'’ 

What did he have to say ?” 

He said that he would have nothing to do 
with us and our suit, and even pretended that he 
was ready to give up his own share of the fort- 
une.” 

“ He must know that he is suspected.” 

“ 1 think he does, for he spoke of hearing ‘ fool- 
ish rumors;’ and he said that he despised them 
and would soon put a stop to them, and that he 
didn’t want any of the money.” 

‘‘ He will not be so haughty when he finds that 
a warrant is out for his arrest, I fancy. I will go 
to the attorney, and tell him that he need not wait 
any longer for proof that Pontac and Ferrer are in 
league together.” 

“ What good will that do us poor people — me 
and my cousin ?” asked Pierre Lem ale. 

“ It will do you this much good — that Mons. du 
Pourm^val will not get possession of the property; 
the civil suit can not come off until the criminal 


228 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE, 


one is decided, and Roland Ferrer, though he will 
not confess to drowning Mme. Vignemal, will very 
likely certify that she was living when he saw her 
on the bank ; and that is all I want, to wdn the case. 
You see, Pierre, the court is always inclined to 
favor the natural heirs, and if there is a doubt 
they will prefer to see the property go to you 
and your cousins rather than to a relation of the 
lady’s husband.” 

If this turns out as you think, Mons. Vaurinet, 
we wdll gladly give 3^ou ten per cent for your 
trouble, but I am afraid w^e shall never get hold of 
that Roland ; he is a slippery customer to deal 
with. If I could only have spoken to him — ” 

It is not too late — look down there.” 

“ Where? Why, heavens and earth, it is Ro- 
land himself!” 

“ I have had him pointed out to me,” said Vau- 
rinet. I recognized him directly.” 

No one would ever mistake Roland Ferrer. 
But w^e must stop him, must w^e not?” 

‘‘ I should like to find out what he is doing here. 
He does not come to town three times in a year.” 

“ He does not look as if he wanted to hide him- 


self.’ 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


229 


“ No, he seems rather to be looking- out for 
something. Come, we will speak to him.” 

Roland was walking slowly along the path-way, 
looking up at the tall buildings whose roofs were 
just visible above the trees of the square, and he 
did not see the two men approaching him until he 
was within three yards of them. 

Then he stopped suddenly, as if displeased at 
the encounter, and seemed half-inclined to turn 
back; but Vaurinet accosted him in a tone of fa- 
miliarity. 

How do you do, Roland ! Do you not know 
me?” 

No,” said Roland, staring hard at him. I 
have often seen you — with Doctor Sully.” 

“ Are you a friend of his ?” 

“ Yes, I have known him for a long time.” 

“ Well, when you see him tell him that I went 
to his house and did not find him. I have just 
come from there.” 

“ You are not going to stay in town, then?” 

“ I don’t know where I may be this evening, 
but I shall not see the Doctor again. His servant 
does not like me ; she shut the door in my face and 
I am afraid she will not tell the doctor of my com- 
ing there ; so if you would do me the favor — ” 


230 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ Don't be uneasy, my lad, I will not forget your 
message. Did you want to see him about that 
affair of the ferry ?” 

Roland looked askant at his questioner without 
answering him, and Vaurinet added hastily — “ You 
were there when the Vignemals were drowned." 

“ Well, and if I was?" said the poacher, dr^dy. 

Don’t be angry ; I wish you no harm," said 
Vaurinet, persuasively. “ I always take the part 
of the poor; I am the counsel for Mme. Vignemal's 
relations, who have no money and who want to 
appear against a fine gentleman." 

“ Against Mons. du Pourmeval?" cried Roland ; 
“ I hope they will succeed." 

I see that you 66 not love him, and yon are 
right. You can help us to prevent him from get- 
ting this property ; you have only to declare be- 
fore the court what you saw at the river." 

“You don’t know that I saw anything." 

“ I do, for Lieut. Pontac told me so." 

“Who is Lieut. Pontac?" 

“You don’t know him?" cried Vaurinet and 
Lemale together; “and you were talking to him 
yesterday evening by the river, on the road to 
La Geraldine!" 

“ Then you were spying on me. It is true I met 


DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


23 


a gentleman on that road, but I do not know what 
his name is, and I never saw him before.” 

‘‘ Perhaps you don’t know that he is as near a 
relation to Mine. Vignemal as I am,” said Lemale. 

“ That is nothing to me,” answered the poacher, 
shrugging his shoulders ; but I am in a hurry, 
and I wish that instead of asking me useless ques- 
tions you would tell me how to get to the court. 
I want to see the prosecuting attorney.” 

“ Indeed ! He has sent yeu a summons, then ?” 

“ He has not sent me anything, but I want to see 
him.” 

“ I know that it is about this Vignemal, and if 
you will confide in me I can give you good ad- 
vice.” 

'' I asked you the way to the court, and I want 
nothing else of you.” 

“ Well, don’t be so sulky ; I spoke for your own 
good. You don’t know anything of law and you 
will be sure to get yourself into trouble ; but that 
is your own affair, I suppose. You want to go to 
the court house; do you see that path that runs 
along by the wall of the old convent? Follow 
that till you come to the sub-prefect’s house ; then 
turn to the right and you will go straight to the 


232 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


court, and the janitor will show you to the attor- 
ney’s office.” 

“Thanks,” said Roland, walking on. 

“Take care,” Vaurinet called after him ; “the 
prison is next door to the council-hall ; don’t make 
a mistake ! ’ But Roland Ferrer took no notice of 
him, and when he was out of sight Pierre Lemale 
turned to Vaurinet, saying: 

“ You are wiser than I am, Monsieur, and I sup- 
pose you know how to manage this affair ; but for 
the life of me I cannot see why you let that fellow 
slip through your fingers without getting a word 
out of him about this business.” 

“ He is going to the prosecuting attorney — to 
talk about the accident. What would you have 
more ?” 

“ I would like to know what he is going to say, 
for he is as likely to be against us as with us.” 

“ Pierre, my friend, you have very little sense,” 
said the lawyer slowly ; “ do you not see that to be 
against us is to be with du Pourm^val? And what 
did Roland say when I spoke of your suing the 
gentleman?” 

“ He said, ‘ I hope you will succeed ;’ but still,” 
said Lemale, discontentedly, “ how is Roland to 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


233 


know what to say to the attorney ? He has not 
read the code.” 

“ Roger Pontac has, though, and you may be 
sure that he and Roland were not talking about 
the weather when you saw them on the road by 
the river. Soldiers are just as sly as other people ; 
lie knows well enough that his chance of inher- 
iting depends upon the poacher’s testimony.” 

“ He told me that he was going to see the at- 
torney himself.” 

“ Not he. That was only boasting. He has 
sent Roland instead, after telling him just what to 
say ; and the attorney will listen to him attentive- 
ly, I know. Whether he will send the poacher to 
prison and issue a warrant of arrest against the 
army-officer, the friend of a nobleman, I cannot 
say ; but what I am convinced of is, that the mat- 
ter is progressing finely.” 

“ Then we have nothing to do but to sit down 
and fofd our arms.” 

“ Exactly. The wind is blowing in the right 
direction ; we have only to let it blow. This even- 
ing I shall go and smoke a pipe with my friend 
the attorney, and then I shall hear all we want to 
know ; so come to see me to-morrow morning. 
Remember, now, not a word of this to your rela- 


234 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


tions at Grand-champ, for it would make a talk if 
it were known that 1 had the inside-track with 
the attorney.” 

“ I shall not speak of it,” said Lemale ; and then 
he added, with a chuckle, I would give a half- 
crown to be behind a curtain in the attorney’s 
office at this minute!” 

‘‘Yes, Roland must be there by this time; he 
was walking so fast. But we must not stay here 
any longer; there is nothing for us to do at pres- 
ent. Go home, my friend, and don’t fret yourself 
— it will be all right.” 

Mens. Vaurinet was very good at guessing, but 
he made a mistake on one point ; Roland Ferrer 
was not yet in the presence of the magistrate. 
On arriving at the esplanade the 3 'Oung man 
stopped to collect his thoughts and to look, per- 
haps for the last time, at the broad forest-land in 
which he had lived free and happy for many years. 

From where he stood there was a fine view of 
La Geraldine and the rugged hills where the 
Beuvron took its source, and Roland leaned his 
arm upon the balustrade which enclosed the plat- 
form, and wondered whether he should ever see 
that loved spot again. 

He had been trying the whole night to persuade 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


^35 


himself that it would be better to obey Miss Dan- 
dria than to sacrifice his liberty to his vengeance. 

He had asked himself vvdiether he should be able 
to survive her marriage with Du Pourmeval, and 
then he had cried aloud in the darkness of his 
lonely hut: “I could not bear it, I should shoot 
him at the door of the church, and then kill myself, 
too! But if I prevent him from inheriting this 
fortune he will not marry her ; I shall go to prison, 
but she will know what I have done; she will un- 
derstand that I have sacrificed myself to save her 
from the man she hates.” 

He was turning this over in his mind, when a 
hand was laid on his shoulder and a familiar voice 
exclaimed, cheerily : 

What the mischief are you doing here, my 
lad 

“ Major Sully !” cried Roland, turning round 
joyfully. 

“ Yes, it is I,” replied the Doctor, with a smile ; 
^^are you so surprised to see me? I am more 
astonished at finding you so far from the Beuvron, 
and in a brown study, too.” 

I have been to your house, but they said you 
were out. I wanted to wait till you came home, 
but—” 


236 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ Jeannette shut the door in your face, I sup- 
pose ; she is eccentric ; but it does not matter 
now, since I have met you. What induced you 
to leave your kennel in the woods? Have you 
broken any more bones ?” 

No, major.” 

“ Roland alwa3^s called the Doctor major, which 
greatly pleased the ex-arm}^ surgeon. 

Then what is the matter ? Have you been 
getting into trouble with the keepers?” 

“ No, major, the keepers don’t molest me now ; 
and besides, I have not set a trap or caught a fish 
for a week.” 

'Hs that true? Then 3"ou must be reformed. 
Are you going to work at last ?” 

“ I don’t know how to work.” 

“ You could learn. But what can you have 
been doing all this time ? Day-dreaming I’ll 
wager! You have spent your time in that way 
lately, and now 1 find you dreaming on the es- 
planade. I see you are in love !” 

In love ! I ?” repeated Roland, blushing scarlet 
to the tips of his ears. 

Why not?” asked his friend, good-humoredly;” 
you are at just the age for — ” 

What woman would have me ?” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


237 


“Many a woman, I am sure. You are too 
modest, my lad. Why, the daughter of the first 
farmer you engaged yourself to would marry 
you, if only for the sake of your brown eyes.” 

“ I don’t wish to marry,” said Roland, turning 
away slowly. 

“ There is plenty of time for that, but I advise 
you to change your way of living immediatel}^ 
for there are very ugly stories afloat concerning 
you. Do you know that they say you played a sus- 
picious part in the Vignemal affair ? Even Mons. 
Dandria, who lauded you to the skies on the night 
of the accident, believes now that you drowned 
Mine. Vignemal. 

“ You will certainly be arrested, and our new at- 
torney has evidently made up his mind before- 
hand that you are guilty. I heard how he cross- 
questioned you at Fougeray, and tried his best to 
make you contradict yourself. He did not suc- 
ceed, but he will not give up his idea very quickly ; 
he is a man with whom I would not care to 
have dealings. I just passed him in the court- 
house, where I have been to see Mons. Lestrigon.” 

“ The attorney is in his office, then ?” 

“ I suppose so, but what difference does it make 
to you whether he is or not ?” 


DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


238 

“I want to see him.” 

“ You ? Ah, then he has sent for you ?” 

‘‘ No, I came here of my own accord.” 

On purpose to sec a man who is your enemy, 
and wishes you no good ! You are crazy.” 

No, major ; I know very well what I am doing. 
I wanted to see you first to tell — ” 

And as Roland hesitated the Doctor went on, 
cheerfully : 

“ Well, you can tell me now just as well, I am 
sure. What was it you wanted to say to me?” 

“ That I lied to you, major,” said the young man, 
in a low voice. 

** What about ?” 

“ About— what happened on the bank of the 
Beuvron.” 

‘*What!” the doctor fairly gasped ; don’t tell 
me that you did drown Mme. Vignemal.” 

I did not drown her, but I could have pre- 
vented the accident, for I knew that the ferry-rope 
was rotten.” 

“Oh, that is it!” said the Doctor with a sigh of 
of relief. “Well, they could not hang you for that, 
even if they knew of it.” 

“ I am going to the prosecuting attorney to 
tell him,” said Roland. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


239 


“ You are a fool, Roland Ferrer ! Do you want 
to be sent to the court of assizes? They will 
examine and cross-examine you until they make 
you commit yourself, however innocent you may 
be.” 

I am not altogether innocent,” said Roland, 
and then he proceeded to give the Doctor the 
startling information which he had already com- 
municated to Ernestine Dandria. 

“ My dear boy, you should have told me this 
before,” said Dr. Sully gravely ; “ but to confess it 
now would be to confirm the suspicions of the 
magistrate who is already prejudiced against you, 
for you would prove yourself a liar. What in- 
duced you to be more frank now than you were at 
first?” 

I heard that the lady’s relations would not be 
able t(^ inherit her fortune unless it were proved 
that she lived longer than her husband ; it would 
be unjust to them for me to conceal what I know.” 

“ A very noble sentiment that ! But may I ask 
why you take so much interest in these people, 
whom you do not know.^” 

“ They are poor.” 

Not as poor as you are. In fact, one of them 
is an officer in the army, Roger Pontac — ” 


240 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE 


The gentleman who lives at the castle 
“You know him, then. Was it he who advised 
you to go to the attorney T* 

“ No, major, he did not tell me who he was. I 
met him yesterday evening by the river, but he 
only said that he was a friend of yours.’’ 

“ Ah, I knew that Roger would not try to make 
a victim of you. For whose sake is it, then, that 
you want to sacrifice yourself ?” 

“ For no one’s, major,” said Roland, uneasily ; 
“ but there is the other heir ; you know who I mean 
— Mons. Vignemal’s nephew.” 

“ Arthur du Pourm^val ! Are you afraid that 
when he becomes master of Fougeray he will 
declare war against poachers ?” 

“I should not be afraid of him. It is not that 
at all ; but he is going to marry one of the young 
ladies at La Geraldine, is he not?” ^ 

“ Yes, the younger one ; but what is that to you ?” 
“The younger one! Did you say the younger 
one.^” cried Roland, starting up suddenly; “ did you 
say it was Germaine he is to marry ?” 

“ Certainly,” replied the Doctor dryly; “ 1 said 
it was the younger one, but it would be more 
becoming in you to speak of her as Miss Germaine, 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


24 


You have not told me why you care so much who 
Mons. du Pourmeval marries, though.” 

“You are sure it is the younger one?” repeated 
Roland. 

“Yes, yes, boy; it was I who carried his offer 
to Madame. What is the matter with you ! You 
seem to be completely overwhelmed.” 

“ It is joy, major, joy.” 

“ Then are you glad that Mons. du Pourmeval is 
to marry into the Dandria famil}^ ? A minute ago 
you were conspiring to deprive him of his inheri- 
ance !” 

“ I don’t care now who inherits.” 

“ Why not, nowf 

“ Because I know more than I did before. It is 
Germaine^ you say, and you would not deceive me, 
major.” 

“ Why should I wish to do so ? She has almost 
accepted him ; he is there every day, and the thing 
will, in all probability, be decided before they 
return to Paris.” 

“ If I were only sure!'' murmured Roland to 
himself, and then, bowing his head upon his breast, 
he abandoned himself to his thoughts, entirely un- 
conscious of his friend’s presence. 

The two were all alone on the esplanade, for the 


242 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


people of Arcy preferred walking on the Rue 
Nationale, not caring to look at the landscape in 
winter from a spot which was fully exposed to the 
west wind. 

Mons. Vaurinet and his client had left Merwin 
Park, blissfully ignorant of the fact that their 
plot was about to be seriously disarranged ; and 
Dr. Sully, looking fixedly at the young man before 
him, began to guess what was passing through 
his mind. 

“ Roland,” he said, softly, after a long silence, 
“ you have concealed something from me.” 

‘‘I, major?” stammered the Bohemian. No, 
I swear — ” 

“ Do not swear, my friend, for you would only 
lie ! Confess, rather, that you have conceived a 
preposterous passion for Miss Dandria.” 

Roland made no answer, but his face told that 
the Doctor had guessed aright. 

“That is what you meant by staring at her so, 
in the kitchen the other night. I noticed it, but 
I never dreamed that you had so far taken leave 
of your senses as to fancy yourself in love with a 
lady who thinks of you no more than she thinks of 
her gardner.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 243 

I know that to ker it is as if I did not exist,’’ 
answered Roland, in a low tone. 

“And you love her just the same; is that it? 
Ah, well, I suppose you will say that you cannot 
help it. That is a great pity, for you might as 
reasonably fall in love with the daughter of the 
emperor of China. It is a case of mental malady 
that I must try to cure you of. First tell me how 
and when this began.” 

“ When ? The day that I first saw her very 
close, a long time ago; she was walking on the 
terrace by the Beuvron and I was hidden under 
the tamarisks. How it began I do not know ; but 
I felt all of a sudden that until that moment I had 
not lived r 

“ As bad as that !” said the Doctor, smiling; why 
your case is worse than I thought it was. And 
what did you do after experiencing this thunder- 
stroke ?” 

“I followed her, without her knowing it; 
wherever she went, I went.” 

“ You never have spoken to her?” 

“ Never.” 

Roland did not hestitate for more than a 
second before answering, but the Doctor noticed 
it, and his face darkened. 


244 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


He was enough of a sceptic to doubt the complete 
discretion of young ladies, however well brought 
up they might be, and he could not decide whether 
Roland was sincere, or merely discreet. 

“ Your reserve is praiseworthy under the circum- 
stances,” he said, slowly ; nevertheless, your 
game is a dangerous one, not only for you but 
for her. You are aware, I suppose, that she 
could not marry you ?” 

Roland bowed assent. 

“Well, then, your conduct — this ridiculous hid- 
ing in bushes and following her through the woods 
— can have no other result than to compromise her. 
And now, since you acknowledge that your absurd 
passion can end only in your losing the little sense 
you possess, will you tell me what you expect to 
gain by preventing Mons. du Pourm^val’s marry- 
ing?” 

“ I don’t care whether he marries or not; I told 
you that before.” 

“ Because Miss Germaine and not her sister is 
to be the bride. If it was to have been Miss 
Ernestine 3^011 would have gone and accused your- 
self of a lot of crimes which you never committed, 
and represented 3"0urself as a criminal tormented 
by remorse. And all that for the pleasure of 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


245 


injuring a gentleman who has never done or even 
wished you any harm ! You cannot make me 
believe that Mme. Vignemal recovered conscious- 
iiess and crept to the foot of the terrace while 
you were gone.” 

“ It is true, major, I assure you; and she dropped 
a leather case, a sort of pocket-book ; and I found 
it the next day, and hid it.” 

“ It is possible, Roland ?” cried the Doctor, in 
astonishment ; “ that alters matters considerably ; 
for the case may contain valuable papers — perhaps 
a will. It may turn out a real Pandora’s box! 
You don’t know what that means, do you? You 
will understand me well enough, though, when 
I tell you that you will probably be accused of 
stealing that case. You had better leave it where 
it is for the present, for I should not like to take 
the responsibility of it at this critical juncture; but 
when you are safely out of the way T could give it 
to whoever has the best right to it. But first, let 
us settle your affairs. You have, I hope, given up 
the absurd idea of going to the attorney.” 

“ Yes, I have given it up, because it is not Miss 
Ernestine who is to be married. You said it was 
not, major.” 


246 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ Do you want me to give you my word of honor, 
Roland ? 

“ No, no ; I believe you — 

“ Then follow the advice I give you ; for if not 
you will get into serious trouble. You cannot 
live in this place any more ; so you must leave it — 
at once.” 

‘^Why so? I have lived here till now; why 
can I not do as I have always done?” 

“You have been tolerated here — that is all. 
People have grown accustomed to you, and have 
forgiven you for pranks which in any other person 
would be misdemeanors. The Vignemals have 
never made any serious endeavors to rid their 
place of 3^ou, because they knew that the little 
game you stole was not sold, but used for your 
own sustenance. This could not last forever, un- 
fortunately, for people will pass over many things 
in a bo3" which they will not pardon in a man ; 
and now the attention of everyone has been drawn 
to you by this fatal accident in the river. You 
will be arrested and subjected to a searching exami- 
nation ; you will be between two fires ; for if you do 
not tell what you know Mme. VignemaFs heir’s 
will be down on you, as they suspect th?d you 
have it in your power to materially assist their 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


247 


cause ; and, on the other hand, if you speak out 
frankly you will have to deal with the magistrates, 
who will handle you without gloves — be assured of 
that. They would have pounced on you before if 
it had not been that they also suspect a young fel- 
low who is more innocent than you in this matter. 
In short, there is nothing for you to do but to 
leave the country.” 

“ You want me to become a soldier ?” 

“ Exactly.” 

“ So does the officer who lives at Bretteville.’’ 

“ It is your true vocation, and there-is nothing 
to keep you here.” 

“ Nothing,” repeated Roland, sadly. 

Come, have done with these foolish fancies and 
be a man ; I will answer for your future. Go to 
Pontac at once and ask him to help you.” 

“ He is expecting me to-day.” 

“ So he told me, and you would have done 
better to go to him instead of showing yourself 
here in town. But I want to see him on one or 
two matters myself ; so I will write and ask him to 
call at my house and we will arrange about getting 
you off. Come to me the day after to-morrow, 
and be prepared to go away at once ; Jeannette 
will have orders to let you in. In the meantime 


248 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

keep as quiet as possible, and do not show your- 
self to any one. By the way, Roland, did you meet 
any body you knew, as you were coming here?” 

“Yes, down there in the Park. I was stopped 
by two men. One was a fellow I saw yesterday, 
a cousin of Mme. Vignemal; the other one said 
he was a friend of yours, but he did not tell me his 
name.” 

“ What sort of man was he?” 

“ Small and thin and yellow, with along pointed 
nose and red eye- lids. He looked like a fox.” 

“ Did he wear black clothes and a white cravat?’ 

“ Yes, and he was carrying a big leather portfolio 
under his arm.” 

“It was that rascal Vaurinet! I remember 
hearing that he had undertaken to plead for the 
heirs of Mme. Vignemal. And so he has the 
impudence to claim acquaintance with me, has he? 
He would not dare to speak to me if he passed me 
in the street. I hope you were not taken in by 
him ?” 

“ Indeed I was, major. I begged him to do me 
the favor to tell you that I had been to see you, 
and I asked him to tell me the way to the attorney’s 
office.” 

“ Heavens ! That is unfortunate ; he is hand and 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


249 


glove with the attorney, and is sure to tell him you 
are coming ; so, when they find you have altered 
your mind, they will send the police for you. 
Mark my words, Roland — do not sleep to-night 
on the banks of the Beuvron ; choose some other 
hiding-place, and come to me about eleven o’clock 
at night, by the quietest road you know and 
the Doctor honored his protege with a warm grasp 
of the hand. 

“ No more nonsense,” my lad, he added, smil- 
ing ; but Roland was at that moment thinking to 
himself that he could never leave France without 
seeing ErnestineDandria once more. 


250 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

The shooting-party in Breteche Forest was a 
great event to the quiet people of La Geraldine, 
and the day before it was to come off nothing else 
was talked or thought about. But Mme. Dandria 
was half-angry with herself for having consented 
to her daughter’s taking part in the expedition, for 
she disapproved entirely of all the violent sports 
which foreigners had introduced into France. 
Lawn-tennis^ the game so popular on the other side 
of the channel, she considered more fitted to de- 
velop the muscles of boys than to form the morals 
or manners of young girls. It was impossible, 
however, to retract her acceptance of the Duke’s 
invitation, and neither was she willing to allow her 
daughters to go to the shooting-party without her, 
for she knew that her brother was quite capable 
of forgetting all about his nieces in the excitement 
of the occasion. This Uncle Armand was obliged 
to acknowledge, but he proposed to his sister-in- 
law, by way of conciliation, perhaps, that she could 
accompany them in her carriage as spectator of 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 25 1 

the sport, for the forest roads were broad and 
level, and the two mares were not at all apt to 
start at unusual sounds. 

The plan was simple and practical, and Mme. 
Dandria agreed to it all the more readily as Er- 
nestine declared that she, too, would stay in the 
carriage, having no more taste than her mother 
for murdering harmless animals. 

After a lively discussion Mme. Dandria was per- 
suaded to let her other daughter take an active 
part in the proceedings. Germaine had often 
begged her uncle to allow her to accompany him 
when he went shooting, which he always refused 
on the ground that the long walks he took in 
search of game would be too much for her; he 
consented, however, to teach her to shoot, and 
even had a little rifle made in Paris expressly for 
her use. The lessons were given on the banks of 
the river, where there were always a great many 
birds, and in a very short time Germaine became 
so proficient in the use of the rifle that she could 
easily bring down a wild pigeon, when on the 
wing. 

It was agreed, therefore, that she should be al- 
lowed to put her new accomplishment to use on 
this occasion, and she made a solemn promise to be 


252 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

as cool as one of the Old Guard, never to fire off 
her gun at hap-hazard for the mere pleasure of 
making a noise, not to leave her place under any 
pretext whatever, and in short to follow all Mons. 
Pontac’s directions implicitly. 

These precautions taken, the party set out, Ger- 
maine attired in a very becoming Breton costume, 
with a red handkerchief tied loosely round 
her neck ; Alfred in knee-breeches, and a broad- 
brimmed hat with a pointed crown, looking very 
like an Italian brigand, and Uncle Armand in his 
usual sporting-suit. 

They had gone some distance from La Geral- 
dine, when they heard a deep barking behind 
them. The carriage-horses pricked up their ears 
knowingly, and Alfred, who W'as sitting with the 
coachman, turned round, exclaiming in an angry 
tone : 

“ It is Belt following us ! The deuce take the 
brute ; what will Lieut. Pontac think of us ? 
Germaine, you must be at the bottom of this.” 

“ Indeed I shut Belt in my own room when I 
came down stairs,” she replied. “ One of the serv- 
ants must have let him out.” 

“ Well, we should look like a set of idiots, going 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


253 


out to shoot with that dog at our heels. I’ve a 
great mind to put a bullet through his head.” 

“You would do better, my boy, to get down 
and go back with him to the house,” said Mons. 
Dandria. “You could lock him in the stable, then 
mount Ralph and rejoin us at Lamon Rock.” 

“ Ride tiirough the country in this get-up ? I 
must ask to be excused. Uncle ! Pourmeval 
would tell every fellow in Arcy and I should never 
hear the last of it. Besides, when we get to the 
rendezvous we can muzzle the confounded beast 
and tie him to a tree.” 

“ I shall not allow anything of the kind,” put in 
Ernestine ; “ Belt is not accustomed to such treat- 
ment. Mamma and I shall keep him with us. 
Shan’t we, you dear old fellow ?” she said, looking 
round at the dog, who was bounding joyfully along 
beside the carriage. 

“ Well, if he takes it into his head to jump out 
and frighten away the game it will be all the 
worse for him ; he may get a dose of cold lead !” 
grumbled Alfred. 

No one took any notice of his threat, but Ernes- 
tine reddened indignantly, and then looked with 
loving eyes at the dog and thought that she owed 


254 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


him some gratitude for having accompanied her 
on her nocturnal excursion. 

“ Without him,” she thought, “ I should not have 
dared to go into the garden to find Roland Ferrer ; 
and then I should not have discovered that there 
is one man sincerely and entirely devoted to me, 
nor that I could, if I wished, cause Arthur du Pour- 
meval to lose this fortune with which he expects 
to dazzle my little sister.” 

Her revery was disturbed by Germaine’s ex- 
claiming, gaily :” 

“ What a beautiful day we have for our expedi- 
tion; it is as mild as spring ! It seemsto me that 
Mons. Pontac is a bird of good-omen to us, for 
just see how dull and miserable we were when he 
appeared on the scene. Now, everything is as 
gay as possible ; I, for one, want to stay here all 
winter.” 

“ What a pity that that fine-looking young lieu- 
tenant has nothing but his pay,” said Uncle Ar- 
mand suddenly. He may want to be thinking of 
marrying, one of these days, poor fellow.’’ 

“ I don’t pity him at all,” replied Germaine, “ for 
he seems to be very well contented with his lot ; 
he loves fighting better than anything, and some 
day he will be a general, probably.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


255 


“ Suppose the Castle of Brettville and Breteche 
Forest belonged to him, and that he should offer 
himself to Ernestine ! She could not wish for a 
more charming husband ; and then, with you, Ger- 
maine, married to du Pourmeval, the three places 
would be joined — Fougeray, La Geraldine, and 
Brettville ; heavens, what a glorious place for 
sport ! I would take up my permanent abode with 
you. Queen.” 

“That would all be very delightful. Uncle Ar- 
mand, if it were only true,” said Germaine ; “ but 
as it is nothing but a fancy we shall have to con- 
tent ourselves with the Duke’s permission to shoot 
in his forest. 

“You are right, my dear, and it seems to me 
that we must be very near our destination by this 
time. I see a sort of rocky gorge over there.” 

“ The rendezvous is an open space directly at 
the foot of Lamon Rock,” put in Germaine. “ We 
cannot mistake it, for the fairy palace looks just 
like a great tower on the top of a hill.” 

“ But what makes j/ou so wise?” inquired Mme. 
Dandria. 

“ Mons. Pontac described the place to me the 
other evening, and I would take the trouble to 


256 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


climb to the top of the Rock if I were in your 
place, Ernestine,” she said, turning to her sister. 

“ I have nothing to ask of the fairies,” replied 
Ernestine ; but Germaine persisted, laughingly : 

‘‘ It cannot do any harm to try them ; for if they 
have no husband to offer they say nothing at all, 
and they are very discreet; they were never 
known to betray a confidence ; you had better try 
at all events ; there is no knowing what may hap- 
pen !” 

“ I can see du Pourmeval’s dog-cart !” cried Al- 
fred suddenly. “ He has just got out, and there 
are a lot of other people, too. Of course they are 
all waiting for us — confound this slow old coach !” 

“ There is no fear of the mares running away 
with us, at any rate,” said Uncle Armand, “as 
your dear Ralph is fond of doing ; and what is the 
harm of our arriving the last on the scene ? Of 
course Arthur du Pourmeval would make a point 
of being the first; that is the duty of a wooer.” 

“ I see Mons. Pontac,” said Germaine, standing 
up in the carriage ; “he is talking to one of the 
servants.” 

“Where are the hounds?” cried Alfred; “I 
know the Duke has a pack of at least sixty.” 

“They will not be out to-day, you foolish boy,” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


257 


said his uncle, smiling at his eagerness ; “ they are 
used only for a hunt ; we shall be on foot, and 
those people you see are to beat the bushes for 
us.” 

A , few minutes later the carriage reached the 
open space in the centre of which stood Lamon 
Rock, rugged and gigantic, and near by was a 
well-filled lunch table, temporarily erected, and 
presided over by three liveried footmen. 

Our lieutenant of hussars is a host and master- 
of-ceremonies of the first order!” said Mons. Dan- 
dria ; you need not have worried about having 
our dinner-hour altered. Queen, for this is a feast 
that would satisfy the most fastidious.” 

Mons. du Pourmeval seems to appreciate it, at 
all events,” said Germaine, pointing to the gentle- 
man in question, who was at that instant putting 
down a large bumper which he had just emptied. 

“ He is laying in stock, in view of the exertions 
he expects to make,” said Uncle Armand. ^‘You 
would not have him drink water.” 

“ It is the only proper beverage for lovers,” re- 
plied Germaine. 

‘‘ For very cold ones ; and that is not the kind 
you and Ernestine approve of, I am sure.” 

Ernestine made no reply, and turned away her 


258 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


head to avoid seeing Arthur du Pourmeval, who 
was coining toward them, hat in hand, and a 
smile on his lips. 

The carriage stopped, and while its occupants 
were alighting Roger Pontac came up to wel- 
come them. 

I am afraid it is very early for ladies to be 
out,” he said, after an exchange of greetings; “but 
at this time of year the days are so short that it 
does not do to begin a battue much later.” 

“There is any quantity of game, is there not?” 
said Germaine, taking up her rifle. 

“Yes, for there have been no sportsmen in the 
Forest this year,” answered Pontac ; “ and the 
keepers tell me that the woods are full of deer 
and pheasants. By the way, the Duke told me 
to request particularly that a certain old stag 
should not be molested. It is one which his son 
often used to hunt but was never able to capture. 
It can be recognized easily by its antlers which 
have ten points.” 

“ It would be murder to kill a stag with a rifle- 
ball,” said Mons. Dandria ; and Germaine added : 
“I should so like to meet the animal, for I have 
never yet seen a stag in its wild state ; it must be 
superb !” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


259 


“Yes, and so is a lion,” replied her uncle. “I 
advise you, m)^ dear, not to interfere with the 
beast if he should chance to pass you, for those 
immense antlers are formidable weapons, I can 
assure you. Now, Mons. Pontac,” he added, “ are 
we read}^ to set out? My sister and her other 
daughter want to follow us in the carriage. They 
have not much taste for sport.” 

“ The roads are good,” said Pontac, “ so Madame 
and her daughter will drive very comfortably. 
You must excuse me from taking part in shooting, 
Monsieur ; I think it best to conduct the hattiie in 
person, for the old keeper would not be able to 
manage the somewhat unruly peasants whom I 
have engaged to beat the bushes for us. But how 
did this dog get here?” he asked, in surprise, put- 
ting his hand on Belt’s head, the sagacious brute 
having recognized him and come for a caress. 

“ He followed us without permission,” said 
Germaine, “ but he will not get in the way ; my 
sister will keep him with her.” 

The party then turned toward the forest; Mme. 
Dandria and Ernestine took their seats in the car- 
riage again, and Belt, at a sign from his young 
mistress, leaped in obediently and lay down at her 
feet. 


26 o 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Arthur du Pourmeval was not at his ease that 
day ; he was unusually silent and seemed to have 
lost a great deal of his easy, self-possessed air. It 
might have been that the presence of Ernestine 
oppressed him, or perhaps he was beginning to be 
jealous of Roger Pontac. 

He knew that his own get-up was faultless, for 
his dog-cart came from Paris; his horse cost 
eight hundred dollars; his groom looked as if 
he had just come from England in a band-box; 
his rifle was a choke-borcd bought in London (at 
Purdey’s, gunsmith to the aristocracy) ; his clothes 
had been cut by the first tailor of Paris — in short, 
Mons. du Pourmeval was irreproachable. And 
yet he was dissatisfied, for he suspected that Pon- 
tac’s simple attire and natural elegance were more 
apt to please Germaine’s fancy than was his own 
dandy attire. 

Roger Pontac was not dressed like a man in a 
fashion plate ; he had come to the rendezvous on 
foot, and did not even care to display his skill 
with the rifle. Mis manner was reserved, slightly 
distant, even, as if he were a lord of the manor, 
doing the honors of his forest to his less noble 
guests ; but under all this hauteur and indifference 
there were distinguishable an ardent temperament 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


261 


and an iron will ; one could see in his eyes that he 
knew how to command — and to love. 

“ It is fortunate that he has not a sou to his 
name/’ said Arthur, uneasily ; but he was consoled 
at seeing that Germaine seemed to take no spe- 
cial interest in the young lieutenant, being ab- 
sorbed in her pretty little rifle, and apparently all 
impatience to begin to use it. 

Tlie rabatteurSj in blouses and sabots, went on in 
front, under the leadership of the keeper from the 
Castle, and Roger turned to Germaine saying, 
“Would you like to shoot rabbits first, mademoi- 
selle?” 

“ I like everything to-day,” she answered. 

“Well, there is a spot very near here where 
there is always an abundance of small game. We 
had better go there first.” 

They took the road to the left, and Germaine 
contrived to walk between Pontac and her uncle. 
Alfred was a few steps in advance of them, and 
du Pourmeval joined him, as he had no desire to 
be near the carriage, which was following the 
pedestrians. 

After about ten minutes’ walk they entered the 
forest and arrived at a narrow glade which was 
separated by a thin copse from the carriage road. 


262 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


and Roger Pontac proceeded to place his guests 
in order of battle. 

Alfred was put at one end of the line, not more 
than sixty paces from his uncle, Arthur at the 
other end, and Germaine between the latter and 
Mons. Dandria. 

Mine. Dandria watched these arrangements with 
great interest, but Ernestine took no notice of 
what was going on, but kept her eyes fixed mus- 
ingly on Belt, who was lying with his nose rest- 
ing on his outstretched paws, like a marble dog 
on the tomb of some medieval queen. The ex- 
pression of her face was so sad that her mother 
could not ignore it, although she had hitherto 
refrained from questioning Ernestine on the sub- 
ject of Arthur du Pourm^val’s conduct, which she 
knew must have caused her daughter great 
pain. 

“ What is the matter wdth you to-day, my dear?” 
she asked; ^‘you have not said more than three 
words since we left home. Are you unhappy 
about anything?” 

No, mamma,” answered Ernestine, ‘‘the rea- 
son that I have not said very much to-day is be- 
cause I am not interested in the battue, and noth- 
ing else has been talked about. 1 should not have 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 263 

come at all if I had not wanted to please Ger- 
maine.” 

“It would have spoiled her pleasure entirely to 
have you at home alone — she loves you so dearly.” 

“ And I would gladly suffer all my life if I were 
sure that she were happy.” 

“ Do you think there is any doubt of her being 
so? Just see how gay she is.” 

“She is always gay, for she gives herself no 
trouble about the future ; but I hope she will 
think twice before she marries.” 

“ So do I, and evidently she thinks as we do, 
for she has not yet accepted Mons. du Pourmeval. 
She wants to know him thoroughly before she 
decides.” 

“ It does not seem to me that she is studying his 
character to-day, and she cannot keep him waiting 
indefinitely.’’ 

“ Certainly not. If the marriage is not arranged 
before we return to Paris it never will be.” 

“Then she ought to decide at once; Mons. du 
Pourmeval expects to inherit his uncle’s money, 
but his claim will probably be contested ; and if 
he loses the suit, and Germaine then rejects him, 
people will say that she wanted the money only.” 

“ That is true,” said Mme. Dandria, thought- 


264 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


fully ; “ it has never occurred to me — nor to Ger- 
maine either, I am persuaded.” 

‘‘ What I am persuaded of is, that she has no 
idea of accepting him, and is only amusing herself 
with him.” 

“ If I thought that, I would — ” 

“You would put a stop to her trifling. Very 
well, question her closely ; she will not lie, but will 
tell you her secret.” 

“Her secret? Do you mean to say that Ger- 
maine has a secret?” 

“ Do you want me to tell you what I know, 
mamma?” 

“ 1 do, most decidedly.” 

“ She told me that she cared nothing at all for 
Mons. du Pourmeval, and she almost said that she 
loved some one else ; but she is possessed with the 
idea that I am in love with the splendid Arthur 
and he with me, and she thinks that he will come 
back to me when he finds that she does not want 
him.” 

“And it is for that she encourages him is it? 
Can it be possible that Germaine is guilty of such 
duplicity— that she prefers some one else, and de- 
liberately misleads Arthur du Pourmeval? I can- 
not believe it ; she is giddy and thoughtless, but — ” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


265 


She thinks that in this case the end will justify 
the means/’ put in Ernestine, hurriedly, “and that 
is because she consults her affections and not her 
reason. I told her that I would rather die than be 
the wife of Arthur du Pourm^val, but she would 
not listen to me.’’ 

“ You ought to have told me this before, Ernes- 
tine. I shall question 3^our sister to-night, and 
ascertain whether she means to marry Mons. du 
Pourm^val or not, and whether she is really in 
love with some one else. 

“ And who it is,” added Ernestine ; “ she will 
tell you everything, I know, for dissimulation is 
not her forte. I only hope she has chosen wisely, 
and that she may never be deceived.” 

“ As you have been, my dear child,” said Mme. 
Dandria, gently, for she was beginning to read her 
daughter’s heart ; but before Ernestine could reply, 
a sharp cracking of rifles was heard, and a flock 
of young partridges flew by. 

The rabatteurs had made a wide circuit, and 
then marched straight forward, beating the bushes 
and hallooing loudly to start the game. 

The sportsmen loaded and fired as fast as they 
could, and were soon surrounded by little clouds 
of white smoke. It looked like an attack of the 


266 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Advance-guard, nothing being wanting to com- 
plete the picture but some red pantaloons and 
Prussian helmets. 

Germaine entered into the sport with intense 
ardor and displaj^ed great skill, and her mother 
was filled with wonder at seeing her take the car- 
tridges from her bag, put them into the barrels, 
raise her rifle, take aim, fire off two shots, and then 
begin over again as calmly and methodically as if 
she had done nothing else all her life. 

Ernestine took no notice of the sportsmen, but 
turned her attention to Belt, who, roused suddenly 
by the noise of the firing, had sat up in astonish- 
ment, and showed signs of jumping out of the car- 
riage. 

But the skirmish was soon over, and Roger 
Pontac sent some of the men to gather up the 
game which had been shot. 

Germaine came up to her mother and sister 
with her gun on her shoulder, her broad Breton 
hat set jauntily on one side, her eyes sparkling and 
her face flushed with excitement. 

Nine rabbits and two partridges !” she cried 
triumphantly as she reached the carriage ; “ have 
I not made a brilliant d6but, mamma ? Uncle Ar- 
mand did not miss aim once, but Alfred hit about 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


267 


one in ten, and Mons. du Pourm^val was just as 
bad. He might as well have stayed at home.” 

“ Germaine !” exclaimed her mother in a tone of 
remonstrance; I am astonished at you. You 
make me regret our having come here to-day. I 
shall have to insist on your coming home at once. 
Besides, 1 want to talk to you seriously on a very 
important matter.” 

“ I have no objections, mamma; but you forget 
that we shall have company to dinner. Uncle has 
invited Lieutenant Pontac and Mons. du Pour- 
meval ; I believe he would have asked the^Duke 
if he had only dared.” 

The gentlemen, by coming up at that moment, 
saved Germaine from receiving a reprimand for 
her levity, and she ran forward to meet Roger 
Pontac, exclaiming, rapturously : 

Oh, Mons. Pontac, it is delightful ; I have 
never enjoyed anything so much before !” 

The young officer stammered a reply, blushing 
so hotly, and so evidently overcome with pleasure 
at her words, that Ernestine said to herself, 

“ Can this be the one she loves ?” 

Well, my dear Queen,” said Uncle Armand 
gaily, “ what do you think of this kind of sport? 
You do not seem to be very enthusiastic.” 


268 


\ DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I am afraid Ernestine is not feeling well,” re- 
plied Mme. Dandria, glad of an excuse for going 
home. 

‘‘ Oh, it must be that she has got chilled by sit- 
ting still in the carriage, and you will do the same 
if you do not get out and walk about a little. 
Why do you not go up to the top of the rock and 
see the view?” 

“The inclosure we are going to attack next 
reaches right up to Lamon Rock,” said Roger 
Pontac. 

“ Oh, no, I could not think of climbing that steep 
wall,” cried Mme. Dandria. “ It would kill me.” 

“ Then perhaps you and Ernestine would rather 
return home. We are quite able to walk to La 
Geraldine, are we not, Germaine?” 

“ Yes indeed,” she answered. “ I am too happy 
to feel tired.’’ 

Mme. Dandria saw that her younger daughter 
was indeed radiant with pleasure and excitement ; 
so she altered her plans suddenly. 

“ We will stay till you have finished the battues^' 
she said, and then they all went back to the open 
space where the four roads met. 

When the sportsmen had partaken of refresh- 
'raents from the bountiful lunch-table, Roger Pon- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 269 

tac again placed them in position for the attack, 
and then went off with the rabbatteurs to make a 
long detour. 

This part of the forest consisted of venerable 
beech trees, whose white trunks looked like mar- 
ble pillars supporting a vaulted roof, and under 
them spread a carpet of moss from which sprang 
clumps of waving ferns high enough to conceal 
deer and other game. These animals had been so 
little hunted in Breteche Forest that they were 
comparatively tame, and would come out of their 
covers and wander about almost on the road-side. 

It was on this road that Mme. Dandria’s car- 
riage stopped, and in front ot it at a short distance 
v/ere the sportsmen, standing in the same order as 
before — Albert and Arthur at the two ends of the 
line, Germaine and her uncle in the middle. 

As she stood there, waiting the coming of the 
game, with her rifle on her arm, her eyes and ears 
on the alert, and her heart beating with expecta- 
tion, Germaine began thinking of Roger Fontac, 
and comparing his modest, simple bearing with 
that of Arthur du Pourmeval, who cared for noth- 
ing but spending his money in ostentation, and 
who thought himself irresistible. She knew it 
was high time that she told her mother of her de- 


270 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


cision — that she would not for worlds give her 
heart to the keeping of the new master of Fou- 
geraj ; and she had also another confession to make. 
As she stood there musing, the dead silence of the 
forest was rudely broken by the cries of the ap- 
proaching rabbatteurs, and at the same instant 
she saw, a few yards before her, the graceful head 
and throat of a roe-buck lifted suddenly from be- 
hind a clump of tall ferns. 

The animal did not see her, and she raised her 
gun to fire ; and as she was about to pull the trig- 
ger the roe-buck turned round and looked at her 
calmly with its soft, dark eyes, but did not move, 
mistaking her, perhaps, for one of the little shep- 
herds who often came to let their cows graze by 
the road-side. 

I cannot kill it,” said Germaine, lowering her 
gun. “ I will wait until it runs ; if it gets away so 
much the better ; I only hope that Alfred will not 
see it.” 

She had just been killing rabbits and partridges 
with all the zest in the world, but she would not 
hunt this buck, who was not a whit more deserving 
of her pity. Compassion is such a complex senti- 
ment of the human heart! It depends to a great 
extent upon circumstances ; during a battle a sol- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE, 


271 


dier will unhesitatingly slaughter a man whom 
the day before he would have helped if 'he had met 
him. It is an affair of nerves, too, for cries of dis- 
tress often move to pity the hardest heart, while 
few consider the sufferings of creatures who are 
unable to complain. No one is much affected 
by the tortures a lobster undergoes on being put 
alive into scalding water! 

Germaine’s sensibilities had not yet been put to 
any severe test, for the small game she shot fell at 
a distance from her, so that she did not witness 
their dying agonies, and all the game was after- 
ward gathered up by the rabbatteurs. 

In war, during a temporary cessation of hostil- 
ities or before the battle begins, the sentinels of 
the hostile armies will not think of firing upon 
each other, but the moment the trumpets sound 
the charge every man will rush on his enemy 
bayonet in hand. It is the same in hunting ; there 
is no honor in hitting game that does not move, 
one might as well shoot at a target, so that a deer 
is a fellow-creature all the while it stands still, but 
the instant it stirs it is game — to be shot down 

without mercy. 

Germaine understood this and was sorry to 
see, as the rabbatteurs drew nearer, driving the 


272 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


game before them, that the buck she had spared 
made straight for the line of the sportsmen, passing 
between her brother and herself. In an instant he 
fired, and the poor beast fell, rose again, staggered 
on for a fe\v steps, then dropped once more and 
dragged himself along the ground to within a 
yard or two of Mme. Dandria’s carriage, where 
he lay bleeding and kicking convulsively. Ern- 
estine could not bear the sight. 

“ It is horrible !” she cried, opening the door of 
the carriage and stepping out, followed closely by 
her dog, while Mme. Dandria, no less affected, 
called to the coachman to drive on a little farther. 

I will not stay here another moment,” said 
Ernestine. “ I am going up to the top of the rock 
to wait till this horrid sport is over.” 

“ I would like nothing better than to go with 
you, but I do not dare to lose sight of your sister ; 
she is so excited that there is no telling what 
folly she may commit ; but are you not afraid to 
climb that rock alone, Ernestine? It looks so 
desolate.” 

“ I shall have Belt with me, and besides you will 
be able to see me all the time — I shall not go round 
the other side, and directly you make a sign for 
me I shall come down again.”-* 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


273 


“Very well, my dear, I know you will be pru- 
dent/' Ernestine set off and began climbing Lamon 
Rock, Belt bounding on before her and stopping 
every now and then to look back and bark joyfully. 
The higher she went the purer and lighter became 
the air, and a cool breeze fanned her burning face ; 
before her lay, like a panorama, the broad forest 
with the blue hills beyond ; the sky was of a pale, 
grayish hue ; a solitary eagle hovered far above 
her head, no sound breaking the stillness but the 
distant cracking of the rifles ; and the turrets and 
pinnacles of the fairy-palace rose grand and soli- 
tary on every side. As she stopped suddenly to 
regain breath after the steep ascent she saw Belt 
running about excitedly, with his nose to the 
ground as if he had scented something and was 
anxious to follow up the clue. “ What is the mat- 
ter?" she asked in surprise, and then, looking 
round her, saw in the granite wall a small, dark 
hole, the very one which had served Roger Pon- 
tac and Germaine as a speaking-tube a few days 
before. 

Ernestine walked slowly round an angle of the 
rock, wondering all the time what Belt’s behavior 
could mean ; and then looking down toward the 
forest she saw the spot she had left — the servants 


274 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


in charge of the lunch-table, the dog-cart with its 
English groom, and the carriage in which sat 
Mme. Dandria, who waved her handkerchief on 
seeing her daughter. Then, going a few steps 
farther, Ernestine was astonished at seeing in the 
upright rock another fissure wide enough to admit 
a man, and, like her sister, she felt half frightened 
at the sight of ^he dark, gloomy chasm. Could it 
be that some one was concealed there? She 
turned round uneasily and called Belt, who, after 
some delay, came running up to her, still smelling 
the ground ; but the momen the caught sight of 
the large opening in the rock he stopped short, 
stepped back a little, and then, with a deep bark, 
leaped in and disappeared in the darkness. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


275 


CHAPTER XV. 

Belt had stormed the fairies’ castle ; he had ven- 
tured beyond the charmed circle and was nowhere 
tc be seen. 

Germaine would have said that the elves were 
holding- him prisoner as a punishment for his 
audacity, but Ernestine was not given to indulg- 
ing in such poetic fancies. She knew that either 
a man or some animal must be concealed in the 
rock and she would have fled the spot if her 
trembling limbs had not refused to carry her ; but 
while she was wondering what would happen next, 
the dog jumped out of the cleft again, landing 
directly in front of her and holding in his mouth 
a small object which he evidently wanted her tc 
take. 

What was her surprise on examining his booty 
to see that it was a square, flat leather case, hav- 
ing on the side a sort of steel button which evi- 
dently concealed a lock, and at the top two thin 
leather cords as if the case had been made to wear 
hanging from the neck. 


276 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


How should the dog have chanced to pick up 
this case, and by what means could it have found 
its way to Lamon Rock; whose property could 
it be ? Earnestine turned it over curiously and 
was startled to see on the other side two initials — 
V. V., in large steel letters, and she remembered 
suddenly that she had once heard her sister mak- 
ing fun of the rather romantic name of their 
prosaic neighbor, Virginia Vignemal. 

Then this is the case that Roland Ferrer 
picked up on the river-bank,” she said, half aloud ; 

he told me he had hidden it away in a safe 
place, and who but Belt would have thought of 
going into that hole in the rock?” Then the 
question arose in her mind as to what she ought 
to do with the -treasure so unexpectedly put into 
her care. In all probability it contained valuable 
papers, perhaps even the whole secret of the in- 
heritance was there. Certainly she had no right 
to throw the whole thing back into the rock al- 
though that would be ihe easiest way of settling 
the matter; but it seemed as if Providence had 
chosen her to be the means of having justice ren- 
dered to the dead woman’s relations 

Were I to give this to Arthur du Pourm^val 
he would not scruple to break it open and destroy 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


277 


its contents if they were unfavorable to his inter- 
ests,’’ she said, thoughtfully, “ if, on the other hand, 
I showed it to the magistrate I should be subjected 
to all sorts of questions ; I should be obliged to 
tell them of my interview with Roland Ferrer in 
the garden, and the result of which would be that 
he would be suspected and arrested, and I myself 
compromised.” 

All this time, Belt was sitting in front of her, 
looking earnestly into her face, his ears pricked 
expectantly, as if awaiting an order, and for a 
moment Ernestine thought that she might as well 
give the leather case back to him and let him do 
as he liked with it. 

But then he would be sure to drop it some- 
where, or else to put it into the hand of the first 
acquaintance he happened to meet, Uncle Ar- 
mand for instance, or still worse, Arthur du Pour- 
meval; that plan would not do at all. 

Just as she arrived at this conclusion, she chanced 
to raise her head suddenly and look toward the 
aperture in the rock, where she saw a tall, straight 
figure standing motionless in the darkness, like a 
statute of Apollo set in a niche. The eyes were 
fixed on hers, and she started up in afright when 
Roland Ferrer’s voice said hurriedly : 


278 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Do not be afraid, Miss Dandria. I want to 
speak to you — without being seen.” 

“ Why are you in there ?” she asked. 

“ Because I know that they are looking for me. 
But to-morrow I shall be far away, and I could 
not bear to go without seeing you again. I 
thought that perhaps you would come up here to- 
day and if you had not done so I was going to 
entreat the Doctor to bring you down to the bank 
of the Beuvron this evening.” 

Dr. Sully !. You have told him then — ” 

“ That I have loved you for three years ; but I 
said that I had never spoken to you. What does 
it matter, though, since I am going away, and 
shall very likely never come back again ?” 

“ You have seen Mons. Pontac?” 

“ Yes, and I am going to leave here to-night ; in 
a week I shall be a soldier.” 

That is right ; I am very much pleased with 
you.” 

“ Then you will not forget me entirely?” 

“ Oh, no, indeed ; I shall never forget that you 
were willing to sacrifice yourself to gratify a 
whim of mine.” 

“ Do you not care to have that man lose his ex- 
pected fortune ?” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


279 


“ I am perfectly indifferent about it now ; so in- 
different that I wish to return to you this case of 
Mine. Vignemal’s.” 

“ The Doctor has told me that it is not you that 
Arthur du Pourm^val is to marry, but your sister ; 
and that is why I gave the pocket-book to your 
dog ; you might have refused to take it from me. 
If you do not want to open it yourself, give it to 
Dr. Sully ; he knows the truth about the accident 
now, and he believes that that case contains papers 
of great importance. If du Pourm^val does not 
inherit the fortune, Mons. Pontac will.” 

Mons. Pontac ! What do you mean ?” 

“ He is related to Mme. Vignemal.” 

And we never knew that. How strange !” 

“ The doctor could have told you, for he knew 
Roger Pontac when he was at college. I offered 
the pocket-book to Mons. Pontac ; I am afraid 
you are angry with me.” 

“I? Why should I care ?” 

“ Not for yourself, perhaps, but for your sister.” 

“ She does not love Arthur du Pourm^val.” 

“ No ? I am delighted to hear that. >f offered 
the case to Lieut. Pontac, because I hate du Pour- 
m^val and would do anything to injure him, but 
Mons. Pontac would have nothing to do with it, 


28 o 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


although I told him the whole story of his cousin’s 
death. He has refused to join his other relations 
in suing du Pourmeval for the inheritance.” 

‘‘ There are some noble natures, then, ’ said 
Ernestine. “ I will take the pocket book and do 
what is right, come what may. And I shall at 
least have the consolation of knowing that you 
are safe from calumny.” As she spoke Roland 
Ferrer dropped on one knee before her, his ra- 
diant brown eyes swimming in tears. 

“ If we never meet again,” she said, “remember 
that in France, the land you love, there is one 
who thinks of and prays for you. Do not kneel 
to me, Mons. Ferrer.” 

He rose to his feet at once and murmured, in a 
shaking voice : 

“You are going, now ?” 

“Yes, my mother is calling me ; but I have one 
more word to say to you. It is courage y 

“ It requires courage for me to tear myself away 
from you. But I have a favor to ask of you.” 

“ I will grant it.” 

“Let me write to you sometimes. Not directly 
to yourself but to the Doctor, for he knows how 
fondly — how madly I love you. It is you who 
have marked out my life for me and perhaps you 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


281 


would like to hear that I am following the road to 
which you directed me.” 

“ Nothing that happens to you can be a matter 
of indifference to me,” she answered, trying to 
speak gaily ; “ so write often to the Doctor, and 
he will read your letters to me, and reply for me, 
too. You will want to know perhaps, whether I 
am alive or dead.” 

“ If I heard that you were dead I should kill 
myself,” he cried. 

“ But T have no idea of dying just yet, and I am 
sure that we shall meet again. When you come 
back an officer our doors will open to welcome 
you, and I shall tell my mother that long ago, 
when Lieut. Ferrer was a poor bush-ranger, I 
had a conversation with him on Lamon Rock. ’ 
Ernestine smiled as she spoke and made every ef- 
fort to conceal her agitation, for she did not want 
to have an affecting parting-scene, and yet was 
unwilling to send Roland away despairing and 
forlorn. She hastened therefore to cut short the 
interview ; and stooping down laid a light kiss on 
Belt’s broad head, then signed him to go to Ro 
land, who, understanding the message, covered 
the dog with caresses. 

“ Good-by,” she said ; “ in two, five, ten years, 


282 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


we shall meet again, here on this spot, ii you 
choose ; but we shall hardly recognize each other, 
for I shall be no longer young, and you will be a 
fine officer. It is only hearts that do not change.” 

“ Ours will not change,” he said, “ for I shall al- 
ways love you, and you will never care anything 
for me.” 

“Who can tell?” she said, turning away and 
leaving him wondering whether he might hope. 
She half regretted her words the moment she had 
uttered them, and fearing that he would ask in 
which sense he was to take them she made all the 
haste possible to get down the rocky pathway 
and rejoin her mother. The mysterious pocket- 
book she hid in her bosom, not knowing at the 
moment what final disposition she would make of 
it. 

Mme. Dandria was still in her carriage, which, 
however, had moved out of sight of the shooting 
which was going on with unabated ardor. 

“ What have you been doing up there so long?” 
she asked, as Ernestine and the dog approached 
her. 

“I have been admiring the view, and then Belt 
went into a cavern and would not come out at 
first — ” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


283 


“ What is that?” cried Mme. Dandria, suddenly. 
“ I hear a cry ; what can it be ? — Perhaps they 
have been attacked by a wild boar or a wolf,” she 
added, turning pale at the thought. 

“ Oh, no. Mamma, there are no boars here. 
Uncle said so, and wolves always run away when 
they see so many people.” 

She would not have spoken so confidently if 
she had known what was taking place in the forest 
at that moment. The battue was just over, all the 
game having either made its escape or been killed, 
and the sportsmen were resting on their arms, 
when suddenly an immense stag started up from 
the bushes where he had been lying in perfect 
security, knowing by experience that no one 
would interfere with him. 

Roger Pontac came upon him unexpectedly, and 
the animal got up and set off at an easy trot tow- 
ard the sportsmen, Pontac following to warn his 
guests that this was the veteran whose life was to 
be spared. 

“ Do not fire !” he cried, and Mons. du Pourm6- 
val. Uncle Armand, and Germaine understood him 
and let the animal pass unmolested, the girl turn- 
ing round to admire the graceful form and the 
large branching antlers with the ten points. The 


284 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


stag was making for the road and had just passed 
Alfred when the boy, carried away with the ex- 
citement of the moment raised his gun and fired, 
and the King of the Forest stopped suddenly. 
Slightly wounded, and rendered furious by the 
attack, he turned back instantly and Germaine 
being the first one he saw rushed toward her with 
lowered head. The girl had the presence of 
mind to slip behind the trunk of the beech-tree 
against which she had been leaning, and the stag 
not being able to stop himself tvent a few steps 
past her, then returned to the attack with increased 
fury. Alfred was powerless with fright, Arthur 
du Pourmeval was too far off to be of any assist- 
ance, and Mons. Dandria dared not fire lest he 
should hit Germaine ; his gun, besides, was loaded 
with small shot which in this case would have had 
but little effect. 

Roger Pontac was the only one who could help 
her, for he wore in his belt a knife which he had 
borrowed from the head-keeper, and whose long, 
sharp, narrow blade had finished many a stag and 
wild boar in its day. 

Roger had purposely armed himself with this 
weapon, thinking that it might possibly be needed, 
and the moment he had involuntarily started up 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


285 


the old stag he thought of Germaine, and hastened 
after the animal, resolving, however, to let it escape 
unhurt if it did not attack any one. Before he 
reached her, the stag had sprung toward her three 
times and had even made a long rent in her Bre- 
ton vest, but Germaine eluded him by stepping 
quickly round to the other side of the tree just as 
he sprang, and this manoeuvre might have lasted 
till her strength was exhausted if she had not 
chanced to slip on the dry moss. Then she knew 
that she was at the mercy of the infuriated animal ; 
but, as she fell, caught sight of Roger running 
toward her, and she cried, faintly : 

“ Help, help !” 

He threw himself with all his force upon the 
stag who was just preparing for a final plunge, 
caught him by the antlers and bore him down, 
the animal falling on his knees and struggling 
violently to free himself. 

If Roger’s strength had failed him at that mo- 
ment he would have been lost. For an instant 
every heart stood still; then Alfred hurried away 
to tell his mother what had happened and the two 
other gentlemen ran toward Roger; but before 
they reached him he grasped the knife, which he 
had been holding between his teeth, and plunged 


286 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


it into the animars side. The stag, already weak- 
ened by the loss of blood caused by Alfred’s shot, 
gave a last convulsive start, which nearly knocked 
over his vanquisher, and then fell dead. Roger 
ran directly to Germaine who had risen to her 
feet, but had made no attempt to leave the spot, 
and she held out her hand to him whispering, 
“ Thanks, thanks !” 

She could not possibly have done less, under the 
circumstances, and involuntarily she did a great 
deal more, for consciousness failed her at that mo- 
ment and if he had not caught her in his strong 
arms she would have fallen to the ground. Her 
mother, her sister, her uncle, her brother, and her 
lover arrived on the spot a minute afterward, and 
it would be difficult to describe Mme. Dandria’s 
alarm, Ernestine’s and Uncle Armand’s astonish- 
ment, Alfred’s horror, and Arthur’s discomfiture at 
seeing Germaine in the arms of the lieutenant of 
hussars, with her head resting on his shoulder, his 
eyes fixed anxiously on her. For a few seconds 
there was a dead silence, and then every one began 
talking at once ; but Germaine furtively came to 
herself, raised her head, looked about her w^onder- 
ingly, and then turned to her mother and threw 
her arms about her neck. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


287 


My child, you are hurt !” cried Mme. Dandria, 
seeing that Germaine’s dress was splashed with 
blood. 

“ Not a bit, mamma,” she answered, and Mons. 
Dandria, shaking Roger Pontac’s hand warmly, 
asked, *^and you, my friend — ” 

“It is the stag’s blood, not mine,” said Roger. 

“ Then no harm has been done at all, thanks to 
you, my brave fellow. How can we ever thank 
you enough — you have saved my niece’s life. But 
I suppose we ought to take the young lady home 
and let her recover from her fright. Will you 
accompany us, Mons. Pontac.” 

“Thank you, no; I might be in the way just 
now, but I should like to call this evening and in- 
quire for Miss Germaine’s health.” 

“We shall be delighted to see you, monsieur,” 
said Mme. Dandria, and then added, “Alfred, call 
to John to drive up nearer, so that your sister need 
not walk.” 

“ Why, I feel able to go to the top of Lamon 
Rock,” said Germaine, and just then the crunch- 
ing of wheels and the cracking of a whip an- 
nounced the approach of another carriage. 

“ It is the Doctor !” cried Alfred ; “ just in the 
nick of time.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I thought I should find you all here,’’ cried 
Dr. Sully, “and though I am no sportsman I 
wanted to see the fun.” 

When he heard what had occurred, however, 
he recommended that Germaine should go home 
at once, and so her mother hurried her into the 
carriage. Meanwhile Ernestine approached the 
Doctor, saying : 

“ Will you drive me home ?” adding in a lower 
tone, I want to speak to you particularly,” and 
he, somewhat surprised, assisted her into his little 
vehicle and took his seat beside her. 

Pontac and du Pourmeval were hovering about 
the carriage wnich contained Germaine, and as 
she was driven off, the girl looked back at Roger 
with a smile that spoke volumes. Then the two 
rivals took leave of each other with but little cor- 
diality and no regret, and the Doctor called Er- 
nestine’s attention to their frigid manner, as he took 
up his reins and set off toward La Geraldine. 

“ What does it mean ?” he asked. 

“I cannot say,” she answered, “for I was not 
there when the stag attacked Germaine; but I 
know that Mons. Pontac killed it, and that no one 
is hurt, thank Heaven.” 

“ Still, it may be a serious affair. Roger Pon- 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


289 


tac is a very attractive young man ; he has saved 
your sister’s life and she, of course, owes him some 
gratitude — whereas she owes du Pourm^val noth- 
ing at all. And, indeed, if Roger had but inherited 
Mme. Vignemal’s fortune — ” 

“ Perhaps he has.” 

“ What do you mean. Miss Ernestine.” 

“ That Roland Ferrer found a pocket-book be- 
longing to Mme. Vignemal.” 

You have seen Roland, then.” 

“Yes, a little while ago, on Lamon Rock. He 
is hiding there.” 

‘‘Yes, I advised him not to sleep in his usual 
burrow again. But how did he dare to speak to 
you !” 

“ He loves me,” she said, simply. 

“ I was in hopes that he had got over that ridic- 
ulous idea.” 

“ I value his love more highly than that of one 
who would look down upon him,” she said, and 
the Doctor making no reply she added, after a long 
pause, “ Do you think it impossible that Roger 
Pontac will inherit his cousin’s money?” 

“ It is not at all likely ; Roland is the only one 
whose testimony could help him, but Roland is 


290 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


obliged to leave the country secretly ; so the mys- 
tery cannot be unravelled.” 

“ Perhaps the key to it is here,” she replied, 
drawing the leather case out of her bosom. 

“ Wh}^ that is the famous pocket-book itself !” 
he cried ; '‘did Roland give it you ?” 

“Yes, and asked me to give it to you, hoping 
you would take it to Mons. Lestrigon to open.” 

“That I can do very easily; but I am afraid it 
will be found to contain only unimportant mem- 
oranda or something of that kind. Mme. Vigne- 
mal would not carry her will about with her?” 

“ That is true,” said Ernestine, turning the case 
over thoughtfully in her hands— “ Oh ! I have 
opened it!” she cried, suddenly, as her finger un- 
consciously pressed the steel spring.- 

“ It was not a lock !” he exclaimed in surprise ; 
“ well, I think that as the pocket-book has opened 
of itself we are perfectly justified in examining 
the contents. Take out that paper, m}^ dear, and 
read it to me.” 

After a moment’s hesitation Ernestine did as he 
desired, and unfolding the paper, which was the 
sole contents of the pocket-book, she began to 
read aloud : 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


291 


“ In the event of my dying suddenly I want my 
husband to take the ebony casket out of my room 
and give it to my notary, Mons. Bernier, who has 
the key of it, and tell him to open the casket in 
the presence of Mons. Lestrigon. 

'‘Virginia Vignemal.” 

That was all. .Ernestine folded up the paper 
again with a sigh of disappointment, and the Doc- 
tor cracked his whip thoughtfully. “ If the casket 
contained a revocation of her will she would not 
have asked her husband to take charge of it,” he 
remarked. 

“That is true,” said Ernestine again. 


292 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


CHAPTER XVL 

No one knew why the rich druggist had built 
himself an orangery unless it was because the 
Duke de Bretteville had one ; the undertaking 
was a great success as far as size and appearance 
went, although the orangery did not contain a 
single orange-tree, for the druggist disdained to 
buy young trees and he found it impossible to 
procure old ones, like those of the Duke, which 
dated from the reign of Henry IV. Mme. Dan- 
dria, when she bought La Geraldine, wisely 
turned the orangery into a green house, and the 
family often spent a whole day there in the cool 
weather. 

On the afternoon of the second day after the 
memorable hattue in Br^teche forest, Germaine 
was in the green-house busily clipping the dead 
leaves off her favorite plants, and Ernestine sat 
near her making a copy in aquarelle of some mi- 
mosas which had been sent her by a friend in 
Nice. At the other end of the long glass gallery 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


293 


Mme. Dandria and her brother-in-law were talking 
•earnestly together. 

“Lieutenant Pontac came here the evening be- 
fore last, to inquire for Germaine,’' the lady was 
saying. 

“ He could not in courtesy do less, but he did 
not stay more than five minutes. He would not 
even wait to see her,” replied Uncle Armand. 

“ I am very glad that he had so much discretion, 
for, under the circumstances, and after what passed 
in the forest, it would be exceedingly embarrassing 
for Germaine to meet him.” 

“ I suppose it would ; but how do you account 
for du Pourmeval’s non-appearance? We have 
not seen him since we parted on the road, after the 
battue. Do you think he is angry with us?” 

“ I cannot say; but indeed it would not grieve 
me very much if we never saw him again.” 

“ Nor Germaine either. I do not think she cares 
for him in the least, and, indeed, the lieutenant 
eclipsed him completely the other day in the forest. 
The young fellow certainly displayed great 
courage and presence of mind. Have you ques- 
tioned Germaine yet. Queen ?” 

“ No, I have not dared.” 

“ Because you dread to hear the truth. What 


294 A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 

will you do if she says she is in love with the 
lieutenant?” 

“ I shall do my best to show her the absurdity 
of such a marriage.” 

“ Because he has nothing. She has known that, 
all along, and she will reply to your arguments by 
saying that riches do not bring happiness, and that 
you told her so. See what comes of bringing up 
children to be romantic !” 

“ You would not have me teach them to worship 
money !” cried Mme. Dandria ; ‘‘it is not my fault 
that Mons. du Pourmeval is rich and Lieutenant 
Pontac poor.” 

“ No, and, after all, that may not be the case, 
perhaps.” 

What do you mean ?” 

“ Day before yesterday, as Dr. Sully was going 
away, after ordering rest and perfect qui-et for 
Germaine, he whispered to me, “ do not let Mme. 
Dandria formally accept Arthur as a son-in-law 
until you see me again.” 

“ That is very strange !” 

“ Yes, and I wonder that he has not come to 
explain himself. I told Alfred to stop at his house 
and ask him up to dinner this evening. In the 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


295 


meanwhile, had you not better question the young 
lady herself ?” 

‘'Yes, Armand, if you will help me.’' 

“ Certainly — Germaine !” 

“ Coming, Uncle,” she replied, from the other 
end of the green-house; and the next minute 
she stood before them, her eyes sparkling with 
merriment, her hair a little disordered, and a saucy 
smile on her lips.” 

“ What grave faces ! You look like two judges 
waiting to interrogate a prisoner. What crime 
am I accused of ?” 

“ I will tell you if you promise to answer frankly.” 

“ Have you ever known me to tell an untruth ?” 

“No; but to be silent is not to lie, and you 
have—.” 

“ You always say I talk too much!” 

“ Be serious for a few minutes, Germaine, and 
answer me. What do you think of Arthur du 
Pourmeval ?” 

“ Excellent — as leader of the german; but not the 
husband for me.” 

“ You ought to have said so before. It is very 
wrong to make promises that you do not intend 
to fulfill.” 


296 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ I did not make any promise, mamma ; 1 said 1 
would reflect.” 

“ But you had no idea of accepting him. Why 
have you been so disingenuous ?” 

Because I want him to have Ernestine.” 

“ That is absurd.” 

No, I was right; look there, mamma,” and she 
pointed toward her sister. 

Mme. Dandria and Uncle Armand leaned for- 
ward and saw Arthur du Pourm^val walking along 
ontside the green-house, near where Ernestine 
was seated, unconscious of his presence. 

Do not move ; he is coming in,” whispered 
Germaine ; but he cannot see us through these 
plants; he thinks there is no one here but Ernes- 
tine.” 

The splendid Arthur had strangely altered in 
looks since the day of the battue. His face was 
haggard, his e 3 ’es bloodshot, his toilet less faultless 
than usual, and as he entered the green-house, hat 
in hand, he seemed to have lost even his firm step 
and stately air. 

Ernestine, absorbed in her painting, did not see 
him until he stood before her. Then she turned 
slightly pale but looked at him calmly. 

‘‘You want to see my mother, monsieur?” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 297 

No,” he answered, in a low tone, “ I want to 
see you.” 

“ Really ! What have you to say to me ?” 

“ Do you not know. Miss Ernestine?” 

‘‘I do not.” 

I am here to entreat you to pardon me.” 

“ For what, may I ask ?” 

For doubting you. I believed you were co- 
quetting with me, for I could not induce you to 
give me any encouragement, and I thought that 
if I succeeded in making you jealous — forgive me, 
1 have never ceased to love you !” 

“ And yet you offered yourself to my sister.” 

“ I knew that she would pretend to encourage 
me, and refuse me in the end.” 

“ How did you know it ?” 

“ I discovered that she was in love with Mons. 
Pontac. Ernestine, I swear to you that I have 
never changed ; appearances, I know, are against 
me, but only give me hope and I will go to your 
mother this very day. Where is she ?” 

“ She is down there, behind those tall plants.” 

“ What !” he cried in surprise, “ she is there ?” 

“ Yes, but 1 advise you not to go to her. The 
best thing you can do is to leave this place at once 
and never venture here again.” 


298 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


Du Pourm^val flushed hotly as he received his 
dismissal, and before he could make any reply 
Alfred hastily entered the green-house, exclaiming: 

‘‘Mamma, Ernestine, I have news; where are 
you ? Oh, du Pourmeval, 2iXQ you here ; I did not 
expect to see you. You have not heard the rumor 
that is going the rounds of Arcy ?” 

“ What rumor?’’ stammered Arthur. 

“ Perhaps it is not true. At any rate I don’t 
want to be the one to tell it you.” 

Arthur du Pourmeval did not wait to hear any 
more, but bowing awkwardly to Ernestine turned 
and fled, without another word. 

“ Why, it must be true !” said Alfred looking 
after him in astonishment. 

“ What is it Alfred ?” called Mons. Dandria 
from the other end of the green-house. 

“Is that you. Uncle? and mamma, and Ger- 
maine, why! You must be playing hide-and-seek.” 

“ What is your news?” asked his uncle, abruptly. 

“ Mme. Vignemal’s will has been found, and it 
disinherits her husband.” 

“ Impossible !’’ cried Mme. Dandria. 

“ That settles du Pourm^val’s case. But who 
will inherit?” said Uncle Armand. 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


299 

No one knows yet, but it will not be Arthur, 
for she could not bear him.” 

Perhaps she made no bequest at all, and in 
that case her fortune will go to her natural heirs. 
The Doctor could tell us all about it, I am sure. 
Did you take my message to him, Alfred ?” 

He was not at home.” 

Then if you want to be useful for once in your 
life, take Ralph and gallop to Arcy. It is the 
Doctor’s hour for being in his office ; so you cannot 
miss him if you make haste. Tell him I want to 
see him immediately.” 

When Alfred was gone Mons. Dandria turned 
to his sister, saying : 

Do you understand this. Queen?” 

“ I understand that Mons. du Pourmeval is 
penniless. Ernestine was right in saying that her 
sister ought not to keep him waiting so long for 
his answer; people will say that she was going to 
marry him for his money.” 

“ I don’t care what they say, for I shall soon be 
able to prove that I am not mercenary,” replied 
Germaine gaily. 

Do you know what Mons. du Pourmeval has 
just told me ?” said Ernestine. 


300 


A BT'SPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“No, we were too far off to hear your conver- 
sation.” 

“ He said that he never loved any one but me — 
he swore to it.” 

“I knew how it would be !” cried Germaine in 
delight, but Mons. Dandria frowned fiercely, say- 
ing : 

“What does this fellow mean by changing 
about, and asking first one sister and then the 
other ? Does he think that he only has to make 
his choice ? The next time I see him — ” 

“ You are not likely to see him, uncle, for he 
will not come here again,” said Ernestine. 

“ He is a scoundrel !” 

“ No, he is only mercenary and calculating.’’ 

“We could pardon him that,” said Mme. Dan- 
dria, '“if he had not shown himself to be utterly 
heartless. God forbid that he should ever enter 
our family.” 

“ Then I was right not to accept him,” said Ger- 
maine, maliciousl}^ 

“ Yes, your woman’s instinct was right this time, 
but you must explain yourself fully. You love 
some one else. Now, who is it.^” 

“ Can you not gufss, uncle 

“ I think I can. It is Roger Pontac.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


301 


‘‘ Yes.” 

“ And you love him because he killed a stag — 
bravely I admit. That is all very nice ; but how 
many times had you seen the young gentleman 
before the day of the hattue f* 

“ Once, twice, three times !” said Germaine, pre- 
tending to count on her fingers. 

“ You are dreaming, child ; he has only been here 
twice.” 

“ But I knew him before he came here,” she 
said, slowly ; “ I met him the day that Ralph ran 
away with me ?” 

“ Where ?” her mother fairly grasped. 

On the top of Lamon Rock.” 

“ Confound that rock, and those absurd stories !” 
cried uncle Armand. 

If it had not been for my climbing up the rock 
I might never have got home at all ; for I found 
Mons. Pontac there and he showed me the way.” 

*‘And you never told me of this,” said her 
mother, reproachfully. 

“That was wrong of me, I own, mamma, but it 
happened only a week ago, and I have told you 
now. I shall never marry any one but Mons. 
Pontac.” 


302 


A BISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ You speak as if you were sure he wanted you,” 
said her uncle. 

“ If he does not, I shall be an old maid,” she an- 
swered, smiling. 

“Well, I have nothing to say against him; but 
what will you have to live on ? His pay is about 
forty dollars a month. 

Perhaps Mons. Pontac is not so poor as we 
think,” said Ernestine, coming to her sister’s res- 
cue; “for if Mme. Vignemal has really revoked 
her will, he will have his share of the inheritance.” 

“ What are you talking about, my dear?” asked 
her uncle in amazement. 

“Mons. Pontac is Mme. Vignemal’s cousin'; ask 
Dr. Sully if it is not so,” she added, seeing the in- 
credulous expressions on her mother’s and uncle’s 
faces. 

“ It is true ; I knew it long ago,” put in Germaine ; 
“ the Doctor told us about it on the night of the 
accident on the river. Do 3^ou not remember his 
speaking of the child whom Mme. Vignemal 
adopted and sent to school ?” 

“Oh, yes; but was that child Roger Pontac? 

“ Certainly — but here comes the Doctor himself. 
Ask him about it” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


303 


Dr. Sully entered the green*house at that mo- 
ment, and shook hands with the family, saying : 

“ I have brought you a piece of news which will 
astonish you.” 

And we have just sent Alfred to your house — 
you must have met him on the road.” 

No, I have come from Bretteville, where I 
have been talking over this wonderful news. It 
seems that Roland Ferrer — who, by the way, left 
here yesterday to enlist in the army of Africa- 
found on the bank of the river a sort of pocket- 
book belonging to Mme. Vignemal. This he gave 
to me a few days ago, and I, thinking that it might 
contain important news, took it to Mons. Lestrigon, 
who opened it. It contained a message written 
by Mme. Vignemal to her husband, in which she 
requested him, in the event of her dying first, to 
give Mons. Bernier, her notary, an ebony box 
which she had always kept in her bed-room, and 
of which he held the key. This was done yester- 
day, and in the box was found her last will and 
testament, signed and sealed. I read it through 
carefully and can give you its contents nearly 
word for word.” 

The Doctor stopped to take breath ; no one 
spoke, and he went on. 


304 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ My dear husband will not be displeased at my 
altering my will when he has heard my reason for 
doing so. His only heir is his sister’s son, Arthur 
du Pourm^val, and I am not willing that my 
money should go to a dissipated fellow who will 
spend it in extravagance. My father acquired 
this fortune by a life of toil and economy, and I 
am resolved that it shall remain in the family ; I 
have arranged it so that my beloved husband 
shall enjoy full possession of the income as long 
as he lives, but after his death the property shall 
go to one who, I am confident will know how to 
use it.” This preamble is signed: ‘ Virginia Pon- 
tac, wife of Francis Vignemal.’ ” 

Pontac f Was she the Lieutenant’s aunt, 
then?” 

“ Her father and Roger’s were first cousins, the 
children of brothers, and therefore bore the same 
name. The will goes on to say, ‘ I give and be- 
queath, etc., etc., to my .husband, Francis Vigne- 
mal, the use and profits of all my possessions^ 
moveable and immoveable, during his life, and 
after him the whole principal shall go to my cousin, 
Roger Paul Pontac, sub-lieutenant of the Ninth 
Regiment of hussars in the army of Tunis, on co7i- 
dition of his leaving the army within twelve 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


305 


months after m3" husband’s death, and taking up 
his abode^at Fougeray. 

“ I hope that Roger Pontac will comply with 
these conditions, and that he will forgive all un- 
kindnesses received at my hands, as I have long 
ago forgotten the faults and follies of his child- 
hood. He has lately written to me and an- 
nounced his promotion to the grade of officer, and 
his speedy return to France; and when he comes 
I shall make known to him this my last will and 
testament.’ It is dated, ‘ Fougeray, November 19, 
1881.’” 

“ Then if the accident at the ferry had occurred 
a month earlier than it did Arthur du Pourm^val 
would have inherited !” said Mons. Dandria. 

“Then it is better as it is,” replied the Doctor. 

“ I thought you took a great interest in du 
Pourmeval, Doctor.” 

“ I did so a few days ago, as must be evident by 
the step I took in his behalf; but I have regretted 
that since. Roger Pontac, I have known since 
his childhood, and I would answer for him as I 
would for my own son if I had one.” 

“ I do not think he will be willing to resign his 
position in the army and settle down at Fougeray, 
however.” 


3o6 a disputed inheritance. 

“ I would not think so, either, were it not — ” and 
he looked at Germaine, *‘that Fougeray is so near 
La Geraldine.” 

“ If he consults me on the matter,” she said, I 
shall advise him to remain a soldier.” 

“ And be as poor as Job !” said Mons. Dandria 
shrugging his shoulders. 

Not at all,” she replied ; he will have his 
share of the fortune, will he not?’’ 

The Doctor shook his head, saying, slowly: 

“ I think he will have to take the whole or noth- 
ing at all ; for I asked Mons. Lestngon about that, 
and he said that if Roger refused to comply with 
the conditions mentioned in the will du Pourm^- 
val could have it declared null and void, and then 
there would, in all probability, be a lawsuit be- 
tween Arthur and the other cousins of Mme. 
Vignemal. The latter would most likely win the 
suit, but Roger would, by his own deed, have ex- 
cluded himself from sharing in the inheritance. 
These country cousins are not interesting people, 
by any means ; it was one of them who, seconded 
by a pettifogger, Vaurinet by name, first set on 
foot the calumnious reports that Roland Ferrer 
had drowned Mme. Vignemal.” 

‘‘ And I believed the story !” said Uncle Armand ; 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


307 


“ but then I did not know that our new friend 
Lieut. Pontac was included in it, as an accomplice. 
By the way, Doctor, it seems to me that the exist- 
ence of this will would be looked upon as a proof 
of Mons. Pontac’s having an interest in his cousin’s 
death.” 

“ The public prosecutor thought of that direct- 
ly, but Mons. Lestrigon showed him that a clause 
in the will itself proved the fallacy of the suspi- 
cion : ^ when he conies I shall make known to hint this 
my last will and testamentl Now it has been 
proved that Roger did not see his cousin after 
the making of the will, which took place only 
three days before her death ; also that she did not 
tell any one of the change she had made. So how 
was he to know that he would inherit her money?” 

“ The prosecutor was obliged to admit the justice 
of Lestrigon’s arguments, though sorely against 
his will, and then I set myself to plead Roland 
Ferrer’s cause. The prosecutor soon saw that in 
attacking him he would have also to accuse Roger 
Pontac, the Duke de Bretteville’s friend, which 
would be an insult at once to the nobility and the 
array, so he decided to drop the question, and our 
volunteer is safe from further trouble.” 

“ Your news is delightful, my dear Doctor,” said 


3o8 a disputed inheritance. 

Mods. Dandria, gayly, ‘‘to all of us, but especially 
so to one of my nieces.’* 

“ To both of them, I fancy,” said the Doctor, 
glancing at Ernestine, who had started with de- 
light on hearing of Roland’s safety. 

“ Oh, of course ; but Germaine is the only one 
who is personally interested in the matter.” 

“Is it the discomfiture of du Pourm^val that 
gives you such pleasure ?” asked the Doctor of 
Germaine, with a knowing smile; and after a pause 
he added gravely : 

“We have all been deceived in that )^oung man. 
As for me, I shall never undertake a matrimonial 
embassy again.’* 

“You might not be so unsuccessful next time,” 
said Germaine, lowering her eyes. 

“You have just seen Roger Pontac; how does 
he take his good fortune?” asked Mons. Dandria. 

“ Very calmly indeed. To tell the truth I be- 
lieve he cares less for it than he would do for a 
bit of red ribbon bravely won.” 

“ He would not be mad enough to decline the 
inheritance ?” 

“ I think him quite capable of doing so, but he 
has not decided yet. It all depends upon one cir- 
cumstance ; if he is going to marry and the young 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 309 

lady wishes him to leave the army he will do so 
and become master of Fougeray ; but if he re- 
mains a bachelor he will renounce the fortune and 
take his chance of being, some day, a general.” 

This information greatly astonished everyone 
except Germaine, who seemed to be perfectly 
aware of what was coming, and Ernestine smiled 
brightly, forgetting her own sorrow in the con- 
templation of her sister’s happiness. 

“ Doctor Sully,” said Mons. Dandria, suddenly, 
^‘you are too good a friend of ours for us to have 
any secrets from you ; so I will speak with perfect 
frankness, and expect you to do the same. You 
are doubtless aware by this time that one of my 
nieces has bestowed her affections— without per- 
mission — upon an officer of your acquaintance. 
Now, as you, Doctor, .are evidently the young 
man’s confidant, you will be able to tell me wheth- 
er he — ” 

“ Oh uncle !” cried Germaine, pouting and 
blushing, ‘^you are reversing the order of the 
dialogue — you ought to let the Doctor speak first.” 

am not going to speak at all,” replied the 
Doctor gayly, “for there is a visitor coming.” 

“ The deuce take the visitor, and Baptiste too. 


310 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


for bringing any one here without letting us 
know !” cried Uncle Armand. 

The family were sitting grouped in such a way 
that Doctor Sully was the only one who could 
see the new-comer, and, going hastily toward the 
door of the green-house, he signed to Mons. Dan- 
dria to follow him. 

The three ladies looked in astonishment at the 
stranger, to whom Uncle Armand was bowing with 
great effusion ; but Germaine took in the situation 
at a glance and whispered to her sister : 

Come, Ernestine, let us go away ; you will 
know why directly. Quick!” and they slipped 
out at a side door just as the visitor was ushered 
in by Mons. Dandria. 

He was a tall, stately personage, with snow- 
white hair and beard, a very erect figure, and a 
face entirely free from wrinkles. 

“ Queen, let me present to you Monsieur the 
Duke de Bretteville,” said Mons. Dandria, and 
when the usual civilities had been exchanged the 
illustrious visitor began : 

“ I owe you an apology, madame, for not hav- 
ing called on you before ; but since my dear son’s 
death I have been living in the greatest seclusion. 
I come to-day to ask the hand in marriage of your 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 311 

daughter for Mons. Roger Pontac, my poor son’s 
former friend and comrade. I beg you to pardon 
me if I seem abrupt, but my young friend is in a 
state of the greatest anxiety to know his fate.” 

I am very much flattered by your proposal, 
monsieur,” said Mme. Dandria, “and I shall tell 
my daughter of it at once.” 

“ It will not be necessary to ask what her senti- 
ments are on the matter,” said Uncle Armand, 
“ for we all know what occurred in the forest two 
days ago ; and moreover Germaine has declared 
that she will marry no one else ; your consent, 
Queen, is all that is required.’’ 

“ I shall not withhold that,” said Mme. Dandria ; 
“ call her, Armand.” 

“ Here I am, mamma,” said a sweet voice, and 
Germaine, who had been listening to the conver- 
sation, entered at that moment and made a deep 
reverence to the Duke, who, as he looked at the 
fresh young face beaming with happiness, smiled 
for the first time since the death of his son. 

“ Mademoiselle,” he said, bowing low and rais- 
ing her hand to his lips with old-fashioned cour- 
tesy, “ I always believed that Roger had good 
taste, but I see now that he is destined to be the 
happiest of men.” 


312 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


“ But I have a condition to make,” she said. 

“ He will agree to it.” 

“ Are 3^ou sure of that, monsieur ? I want to 
be the wife of an officer, but he will want to leave 
the army.” 

“ Not for a twelve-month yet, and before that 
time he will certainly be decorated,” said the 
Duke ; he is already proposed.” 

“Then I shall wait for him.” 

“ And have the people of Arcy say that you 
want to make sure of the Vignemal property be- 
fore you marry!” interrupted Uncle Armand. 

“ Mademoiselle is beyond the reach of such cal- 
umnies,” replied the Duke gallantly ; “ but indeed 
it would be a heavy trial for Roger to wait so long 
for the fulfillment of his dearest wish.” 

“ And if you insist on his returning to Tunis you 
will have to go with him,” said Mens- Dandria. 

“ Very well, that would be delightful. I should 
like nothing better.” 

“ My dear child,” put in Mine. Dandria, “you 
know that that would not be practicable, and a 
year’s probation would be unbearable for you 
both. You must give the Duke your answer at 
once.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 313 

“ My answer ? That is understood,” she said, in 
a low tone, and the Duke exclaimed, quickly : 

“ Then I am authorized to take Roger the news, 
which he is waiting for impatiently ?” 

“ So impatiently that he is staying quietly at 
Bretteville !” replied Germaine, mischievously. 

“ Pardon me, mademoiselle ; he has so far viola- 
ted the rules of etiquette as to accompany me 
here, and he is now waiting for me at the gate, 
and counting the minutes until I return to him.” 

I will go and fetch him,” said Uncle Armand, 
getting up. 

“ And what are )^ou going to tell him ?” asked 
Germaine. 

“ That you have as usual got an absurd idea in 
your head which, perhaps, he will be able to re- 
move, and that you accept him — will that do !” 

“Yes, Uncle, and you may add that I saw in 
the Civil Code that a wife must obey her husband ; 
f will abide by the law.” 

“ Then the marriage shall be celebrated in the 
castle,” said the Duke, smiling. “ Roger wants 
me to be his best man, and I leave for Italy in six 
weeks.” 

“ That is a great honor for us, monsieur, but 
meanwhile I have a few minutes’ more liberty. 


314 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 


which I will occupy in having a tete-a-tete with 
my sister.” 

She turned to Ernestine as she spoke, and drew 
her out into the garden. 

“ Are you sure, quite sure, that you do not love 
him any more ?” she asked, earnestly. 

Perfectly sure ; I only despise him.” 

“And you love some one else instead.” 

“Nonsense Germaine, what put such an idea 
into your head ?” 

“ I saw you go up to Lamon Rock the other 
day. Was it not to consult the fairies ?” 

“ You know that I have nothing to ask of them,’ 
said Ernestine, smiling sadly. 

“ Sometimes they speak without being asked 
But do not tell your secret if you would rather 
not ; only I hope that you will do as I am doing — 
marry the man of your choice, and never mind the 
rest. I am sorry for one thing, though, and that 
is that Roger is so rich ; people will say that I 
have made/ a good match.’ You will not be ac- 
cused of being mercenary, but you will have what 
I longed for — a brave soldier coming home to you 
with nobly-earned honors.’’ 

“ In about ten years !” said Ernestine ; “ it is a 
long, long time.” 


A DISPUTED INHERITANCE. 315 

Roger became a sub-lieutenant in eight years, 
and he did not know me then ; whereas Roland 
has the thought of you to — ” 

Rolaitdf^ repeated Ernestine, “what are you 
saying, sister ?” 

“ I have guessed your secret, you see. Do not 
try to deny it. Roland Ferrer will come back in 
five years time, and I predict that you will wait 
for him; here comes Uncle Armand with Roger; 
you must come and be introduced to your brother- 
in-law.’’ 

****** 

Roger and Germaine were married yesterday, 
and he will send in his resignation before the end 
of the year. 

Roland Ferrer has entered a brigade, and bids 
fair to win his epaulettes before long. Will Ger- 
maine’s prediction be fulfilled ? 

W hy not ? 


THE END. 






, 5 ^. X'- tWf'':T'"^'>'’-!”-ii»ffi ••i6v 




iis - 


Is ' ■■' 






-'V ' ■'^ ’ ■ 


\\ i't I'l.’ 


~H Si ^ ' [ 






■^r.75N?i4.4^<i,X'«iv<- 2t-.v 

'v^’’ 


,1 ;-’'-.7j; w-'-r'7^. r ? 

i'f ■if'uiv ,: 

"ii*. IrWfi «Wlr -fcN ;•f^*tw^ .. -»■• 'iv- .'A '. reV' *. ^ - ‘ . ; . 


; ^ 10 7 T>‘ :.v. tfU- fi :■ . 


V '■• • - ■ - - *' 


C}c'> nw M 
W-V ^ - 



• - . 




. C<y -^-;. 


STANDARD RECITATIONS BY BEST AUTHORS. 


A Choice Collection of* Beautiful Coiriffositionst 

CAREFULLY COMPILED FOR 

School, Lyceum, Parlor, and other Entertainments. 

By FRANCES P. SULLIVAN. 


CONTENTS OF NO. 1. 


PAGE 


Sheridan's Bide. T. B. Bead 3 

Barbara Frietchie. J. G. Whittier. ... 4 
Hamlet’s Soliloquy on Death. Shaks- 

peare 4 

The Ship of State. Longfellow 6 

War. E. B. Browning 6 

Cato on the Immortality of the Soul. 

Addison 6 

My Country. Anonymous 6 

Cardinal Wolsey’s Farewell to Power. 

Shakspeare 4 

To My Mother. Forrester 6 

What makes a Hero. Henry Taylor. . 7 

America. Bryant 7 

The Felon. M. G. Lewis 7 

Ode to Fear. Collins 8 

Dorkins’ Night. Anonymous 8 

Warren’s Address. J- Pierpont 9 

Beturn of the Dead. Proctor 9 

To a Skull. Anonymous 9 

The Pauper’s Death-Bed. Caroline B. 

Southey 10 

The Glove and the Lion. Leigh Hunt. 10 
Marco Bozzaris. Fitz-Greene Halleck. 11 

The Last Man. Campbell 11 

Kearney at Seven Pines. E. C. Stead- 
man 12 

The Gambler’s Wife. Coates 13 

The Battle of Fontenoy. Thomas 

Davis 14 

Over the Biver. Nancy A. M. Priest. . 15 

Life. Henry King 15 

Bivouac of the Dead. Theodore 

O’Hara 15 

When the Tide Goes Out. Anony- 

motis 16 

The Drunkard’s Dream. C. W. Deni- 
son 16 

Hobody’s Child. Philo H. Child 17 

One in Blue and One in Gray. Wm. 

Ward 17 

Man was made to Mourn. Bobert 

Burns 18 

The Collier’s Dying Child. Farmer. . 19 
Wliere Man Should Die. Anonymous. 19 
Bed Biding Hood. J. G. Whittier ... 20 
The Arab’s Farewell to his Steed. 

Mrs. Norton 20 

The Futility of Fame. H. K. White. . 21 
Somebody’s Darling. “ War Lyrics of 
the South ” 21 


PAGE 

Yearning. J. Brennan.. 22 

Boll-Call. N. P. Shephert 22 

When the Lamp is Shattered. Percy 

Bysshe Shelley 23 

King out Wild Bells. Tennyson 23 

The Downfall of Poland. Campbell . . 23 
Elegy Written in a Country Church- 

Yard. Gray 24 

The Weaver 25 

The Memory of the Dead. Anony- 
mous 26 

The Keconciliation. John Banim .... 26 
The Bells of Shandon. Father Prout. . 27 

Look Aloft. J. Lawrence 27 

Curfew must not Bing To-Night. 

Anonymous 28 

Persevere. J. Brougham 29 

The Baron’s Last Banquet. A. G. 

Greene 29 

The Inquiry. Charles Mackay 30 

The Belief of Lucknow. Kobt. Lowell. 31 

The Water-Mill. D. G. Mitchell 31 

Dying Californian 32 

Bingen on the Khine. Mrs. Norton.. 33 

Beautiful Snow 34 

The Charge of the Light Brigade. 

Tennyson 35 

The Dying Soldier 35 

Jim Bludso. John Hay 36 

Somebody’s Mother 36 

I’d offer Thee this Hand of Mine 36 

The Bridge 37 

The Polish Boy. Ann S. Stephens 37 

Why should the Spirit of Mortals be 

Proud 38 

Betsy Destroys the Paper. D. K. 

Locke 39 

There’s None like a Mother if ever so 

Poor 41 

The Song of the Sword. Anonymous. ^ 
The Mistletoe Bough. Anonymous . 42 

The Old Arm Chair 43 

The Village Blacksmith 43 

Which Shall it be ? Anonymous 43 

The Death of the Warrior King. Chas. 

Swan “ 

Found Dead. Albert Leighton 44 

Little Will. Anonymous 46 

In School Days. J. G. Whittier 47 

Unknown Dead. L. D. M 4« 

Bernardo del Carpio. Mrs. Hemans. . 48 


Price H rents by Mall, 1 and 2 Cent Stamps taken. 


A.ddi*es8y M# J* I VERS & CO«, 

SO Nassau Streetf N, Y. City 


STANDARD RECITATIONS BY BEST AllTBORS. 


A Choice Collection of* Iteaiitirul CompositionSa 

CAREFULLY COMPILED FOR 

School, Lyceum, Parlor, and other Eiitertainmente, 

By FRANCES P. SULLIVAN. 


CONTENTS 

Page 


The Baren, EdgarA. Poe 3 

The Burning Prairie, Alice Carey 6 

Guilty or Not Guilty 6 

The Death-bed. Thomas Hood 6 

The Seminole’s Reply. G. W. Patten. 7 
The Main Truck; or, A Leap for Life. 

Colton 7 

Civil War. Anonymous 7 

Antony’s Address to the Romans. 

Shakspeare 8 

Tke Palmetto and the Pine. Virginia 

L. French 10 

The Fate of Virginia. T. B. Macau- 
lay 12 

Guard thine Action. Sallie Ada 

Vance 13 

One Glass More 13 

William Tell 13 

Damon to the Syracusans. John 

Banim .... 14 

Erin’s Flag. Rev. Abram J. Ryan. ... 14 
“The Irish Brigade ” at Fontenoy. 

Bartholomew Dowling 16 

Shylock to Antonio. Shakspeare 16 

Maud Muller. J. G. Whittier 16 

The Gladiator. J. A. Jones 18 

Good -Night. Myles O’Reilly 19 

From India. W. C, Bennett 19 

The Soldier’s Pardon. Jas. Smith... 20 

The Whistler. R. Storer 21 

Antony and Cleopatra. Gen. Lytle. . . 22 

The Doorstep. E. C. Stedman 22 

Bill Mason’s Ride. F. Bret Harte.... 23 
Conscience and Future Judgment. .. . 23 
The Purest Pearl 24 


Price 12 Cents by Mall. 


OF NO. 2. 


Joe. Alice Robbins 24 

The Dying Brigand 26 

John Maynard. Horatio Alger, Jr 26 

The Galley Slave, Henry Abbey 26 

Claude Melnotte’s Apology. Lord 

Lytton 28 

Catiline’s Last Harangue to his Army. 

Croly 29 

Seven Ages of Man. Shakspeare 29 

The Blacksmith’s Story. Frank Olive 30 

Drafted. Mrs. H. L, Bostwick 31 

You Put no Flowers on my Papa's 

Grave. C. E. L. Holmes 32 

The Atheist. Wm. Knox 33 

Burial of Sir John Moore. Chas. 

Wolfe 34 

Twenty Years Ago 34 

The Rainbow 35 

A Wanderer’s Musings. By Wm. Geo- 

ghegan 36 

Scott and the Veteran. Bayard Tay- 
lor 36 

Damon and Pythias ; or. True Friend- 
ship. William Peter 37 

Kit Carson’s Ride. Joaquin Miller.. 39 
By the Shore of the River. C. P. 

Cranch 42 

Excelsior. H. W. Longfellow 43 

The Two Anchors. R. H. Stoddard.. 43 
Under the Lamplight. Annie R. 

Blount 44 

Brutus over the Dead Lucretia. J. 

H. Payne 45 

The Fireman. Robert T. Conrad ... . 46 
Lochinvar’s Ride 4? 


1 and 2 Cent Stamps^ taken. 


Address, M. J. IV£RS Sc, CO., 

86 Nassau Street ^ N. F. Cit^^ 


STANDARD RECITATIONS BY BEST AUTHORS. 


A Choice Collection of* Beautiful Compositionsit 

CAEEFULLY COMPILED FOB 

School, Lyceum, Parlor, and other LntertalnmeHts. 

By FRANCES P. SULLIVAN. 


The Factory Girl's Last Day 
The Bridge of Sighs. By Thomas 

Hood 

The Sisters. By John G. Whittier.. . 

Smiting the Rock 

llie Ituined Merchant. By Cora M. 

Eager 

Knocked About. By Daniel G#n- 


nolly 

The Burial of the Dane. By H. H. 

Brownell 8 

Heroes of Greece. By Byron 8 

The Moneyless Man. By H. T. Stan- 
ton 9 

The Drummer Boy 10 

Catiline’s Defiance. By George Croly 10 
The Picket Guard. By Mrs. Howland 11 
The Dying Street Arab. By Matthias 

Barr 11 

Ho Mortgage on the Farm. By John 

H. Yates 12 

The Old Canoe. By Albert Pike 13 

Casablanca 13 

Next Door. Charles B. Howell 14 

Kienzi’s Address. By M. E. Mitford. 14 
The Black Eegiment. By George H. 

Boker 15 

Charles XII. By Johnson 15 

Camma’s Love for Sinnatus. By Ten- 
nyson 16 

Washington. By Bryant 16 

The Hand that Kocks the World. By 

Wm. Koss Wallace 16 

Lenore. By Edgar A. Poe 16 

One Night with Gin 17 

Life’s Conflict. By W. Whitehead. . . 18 
Cceur de Lion at the Bier of his 

Father. By Felicia Hemans 18 

Never Give Up 19 

The Unfinished Letter 20 

The Miser’s Will. By George Birds- 
eye 20 

The Lights of London. George E. 

Sims. 21 

Sample Eooms 21 

Th • Rose. James R. Lowell 21 

Song of the Battle Flag 22 

'The Brave at Home. T. Buchanan 

Read 23 

Annabel Lee. Edgar A. Poe 23 

The Cumberland. H. W. Longfellow 23 
He and She 24 


Page 

Othello’s Apology. Shakspeare 25 

The Blue and the Gray. M. F. Finch 26 

Bill and 1. G, H. Miles ^ 

Mill River Ride. J. W. Donovan 26 

In Memoriam. Geo. D. Prentice. .. . 27 
Horatius at the Bridge. T. B. Ma- 
caulay 28 

There is No Death. Lord Lytton.... 29 

The Engineer’s Story 30 

Only Sixteen J 31 

I’ll Take What Father Takes. W. 

Hoyle 31 

The Light House. Thomas Moore.... 32 
Lochiel’s Warning. Thomas Camp- 
bell 32 

My Friend’s Secret. By B. P. Shil- 

laber 34 

The Maniac. Matthew Gregory Lewis 34 

Bernardo’s Revenge. Part III 36 

Bernardo and Alphonso, Part II. 

John Gibsen Lockhardt 36 

The Knight’s Toast 36 

The Child Violinist. Austin Dobson 37 
Tom. Constance Fennimore Wool- 

son 37 

Cleopatra Dying. Thomas S. Collier 38 
Hotspur’s Defence. Shakspeare.... 39 
General Joseph Reed ; or, the Incor- 
ruptible Patriot. Edward C. 

Jones 39 

William the Conqueror. Chas. Makay 40 

Keeping his Word 40 

Soliloquy of King Richard III. 

Shakspeare 41 

The Little Grave I . 41 

The Wounded Soldier 4'2 

Clarence’s Dream. Shakspeare 49 

The Battle of the Baltic. Thomas 

Campbell 44 

The Bells of the Atlantic. Mrs . Sig- 
ourney 45 

The Stormy Petrel. Bryan W. Proc- 
tor (Barry Cornwall) 45 

The Amen of the Rocks. Gellert. ... 46 
Battle Flag at Shenandoah. Joaquin 

Miller 46 

Black-eyed Susan . Thomas Gay 47 

Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers . Mrs. 

Hemans 47 

The Three Fishers. Chas Kingsley. 4j8 
The Sands of Dee, Chas. Kingsley., w 


CONTENTS OF NO. 3 
Page 

3 

4 

5 

6 

6 


Price 11 Cents by Mall. 1 and -2 Cent Stamps taken. 

Address, M. J. IVBRS & CO., 

86 Wsesau Street, F. OlSr 


STANDABD RECITATIONS BY BEST AUTHORS. 


A Choice Collection of* Beautiful Compositions^ 

CABBFULLT COMPILED FOB 

School, Lyceum, Parlor, and other Entertainments, 

By FRANCES P. SULLIVAN. 

CONTENTS OF NO. 4. 


PAGE 


Heslgnation. H. W. Longfellow 3 

At the Morgue. Edmund C. Stedman. 4 
John Burns of Gettysburg. Bret Harte 4 
The Pledge at Spunky Point. John 

Hay 6 

The Ivy Green. Charles Dickens .... 6 

Conductor Bradley. John G. Whit- 
tier 6 

Bing Down The Drop — I Cannot Play. 

By J. W. Watson 7 

The Battle-Song of Labor 8 

The Haunted Palace. By Edgar Allan 

Poe 8 

Mary, the Maid of the Inn. Robert 

Southey 9 

The Clown’s Story. Vandyke Browne 11 
The Execution of Montrose. By W. E. 

Aytoun : . 12 

The Old Forsaken School-House. By 

John H. Yates 14 

The Two Beggars 15 

The Young Tramp. By Charles F. Adam 15 
Song of the Mystic. Father Ryan ... . 16 
Truth — Freedom — Virtue. An Address 

to a Child 17 

The Little Cup Bearer 17 

Leaving the Homestead 18 

In the Floods. By Isabella Fy vie Mayo 18 

Alabama. Mrs. Hemans 19 

“ If things was only Sich.” By B. P. 

Shillaber 20 

The Mountains of Life, J. G. Clark.. 20 

Give me the Hand. Goodman Bar- 

naby 20 

The King’s Temple 21 

The Portrait. Owen Meredith 22 

The Guard’s Story 23 

The Red Jacket. George M. Baker. . . 23 

Minot’s Ledge. Fitz-James O’Brien. . 24 

The Bondage of Drink 25 

The King s Picture. Helen B. Bost- 

wick 25 

N.ight. James Montgomery 26 

ffaster’s Last Charge. Frederick Whit- 
taker 5^6 


PAGE. 


Four Lives. Garnet B. Freeman 28 

Eternal Justice. Charles Mackay .... 29 

The Fatal Glass. Laura U. Case 30 

Though Lost to Sight, to Memory 

Dear. Ruthven Jenkyns 30 

If 31 

Our Ships at Sea. George W. Bungay. 31 
Scatter the Germs of the Beautiful. . . 32 
The Pride of Battery B. E. H. Gassa- 

way 32 

I’m with You once again. George P. 

Morris 33 

Incident of the French Camp. liobert 

Browning 33 

Marion’s Dinner. Edward C. Jones. . 34 
Tale of a Temptation . Alice Horton. 34 
The Sailor-Boy’s Dream. William 

Dimond 36 

A Sailor’s Story. Mrs. C. H. N. 

Thomas 37 

Xerxes at the Hellespont. R. C. 

Trench 38 

The Flight of Xerxes. Maria Jane 

Jewsbury 38 

Hero and Leander. Leigh Hunt 39 

The Avalanche 40 

The Surgeon’s Tale. Barry Cornwall. 40 

Clear the Way. Charles Mackay 41 

The Toast. Mary Kyle Dallas 41 

Baby. George Macdonald 42 

The Lips that Touch Liquor Must 
Never Touch Mine. George W. 

Y )ung 42 

The Ideal and the Real. I. Edgar 

Jones 43 

The Bricklayers. G. H. Barnes 44 

The Charge by the Ford. Thomas 

Dunn English 45 

Music in Camp. John R. Thompson 45 
Maturnus’ Address to His Band. Ed- 
ward Spencer 46 

Jo, the Tramp. Edgar M. Chipman. 47 
The Death of Hofer. James C. Man- 

gan 47 

Memory. James A. Garfield 48 


Price 12 Cents toy Mali. 1 and 2 Cent Stamps taken. 

Address, M. -T. IVERS & CO., 

«« Xaxsau Street, ,V. r. Citu. 


CUSHING’S MANUAL 

• COMTAIXING 

RULES of PROCEEDING and DEBATE 

OF 

DELIBERATIVE ASSEMBLIES. 


4 Complete Guide for Instruction and Reference in all Matters pertaining to 
the Management of Public Meetings according to Parliamentary Usages. 


BY REVISED BY 

LUTHER S. CUSHIKG. FRANCES P. SULLIVAN. 


The contents embrace the following subjects 


Addition of Propositions. 
Adjournment. 

Amendment. 

Apology. 

Assemoly, Deliberative. 
Assembling. 

Blanks, filling of. 

Chairman, preliminary elec* 
Committees. [tion of. 

Committee of the Whole. 
Commitment. 
Communications. 

Consent of the assembly. 
Contested Elections. 
Credentials. 

Debate. 

Decorum, Breaches of. 
Disorderly Conduct. 
Disorderly Words. 

Division. 

Elections and Returns. 
Expulsion. 

Floor. 

Forms of Proceeding, 
incidental Questions. 
Introduction of Business. 
Journal. 

Judgment of an aggregate 
Lie on the Table. [body. 


List of members. 

Main Question. 

Majority. 

Members. 

Membership. 

Motion. 

Naming a member. 

Officers. 

Orderofa deliberative assem- 
Order of business. [bly. 
Order, rules of. 

Order, call to. 

Orders of the Day. 
Organization. 

Papers and Documents. 
Parliamentary Law. 
Parliamentary Rules. 
Petitions. 

Postponement. 

Power of assembly to eject 
Preamble. [strangers. 

Precedence. 

President. 

Presiding Officer, 

Previous Question. 

Privileged Questions. 
Proceedings, how set in mo- 
Punishment. [tion. 

Quarrel between members. 


Question. 

Quorum. 

Reading of Papers. 
Reception. 

Recommitment. 

Reconsideration. 

Recording Officer. 
Recurrence of Business. 
Reports of Committees. 
Reprimand. 

Resolution. 

Returns. 

Roll. 

Rules. 

Secondary Questions. 
Seconding of motions. 
Secretary. 

Separation of propositions. 
Speaking. 

Speaking member. 

Speech, reading of, by mem* 
Subsidiary Questions, [ber. 
Suspension of a rule. 
Transposition of proposition. 
Vice-President. 

Voting. 

Wjll of assembly. 

Withdrawal of motion. 

Yeas and Nays. 


In addition to the above this volume contains 

THE CONSTITUTIOlSr OF THE UNITED STATES 

AND THE 

DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 


^08 Pages. Bound in paper, 25 cents ; bound in doth, gilt back, 50 cents. 
Beut by mail on receipt of price. One- and two-cent stamps taken. 

Address M. J. IVERS & CO., 

86 Nassau Street, New York, N. Y. 


THE CELEBRATED 

SOIHIB 



GRAND, SQUARE AND UPRIGHT 


FIEST PKIZE 
DIPLOMA. 

Centennial Exhibi- 
tion, 1876; Montreal, 
*881 and 1882. 

•SPhe enviable po- 
Mtion Sohmer & 
Co. hold among 
American P i am o 
Manufacturers is 
solely due to the 
merits of their in- 
struments. 


PIANOS. 

They are used m 
Conservatories, 
Schools and Sem- 
inaries, on account 
of their superior 
tone and unequaled 
durability. 

The SOHMEB 
Plan ' is a special 
favorite Tvith the 
leading musicians 
and critic*. 


ARE AT PRESENT THE MOST POPULAR 


AND PRDFBRRDD BY TH.B LDADING ARTISTA 


SOHMEB A CO.t Manufacturers, Nos. 149 to 155 E. 14th Street, M. V- 


The American Illustrated Fronouncing* 

I>OCKET DICTIOMARV 

OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 

BASED ON THE LABORS AND PRINCIPLES OP 


WEBSTER AND OTHER AUTHORITIES. 

CONXAINIlSrG' 50,000 


Every word being respelled exactly as pronounced, with careful and corr^ 
accentuation and syllabication, and concise and accurate definitions. 




THERE IS ALSO ADDED A COPIOUS COLLECTION OF 


WORDS. PHRASES, PROVERBS AND QUOTATION? 

From the Greek and Latin and modern languages, with accurate translations ; 
list of abbreviations in use in the arts, sciences, and general literature ; with much oth^ 
useful information. 

TO THE PRESENT EDITION IS ALSO ADDED A 

SUPPLEMENT OP ADDITIONAL WORDS AND DEFINITION! 

NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OTHER DICTIONARY. 


PRICE, 30 CENTS BY MAIL. I AND 2 CENT STAMPS TAKEN. 

Address M. J. /VERS & CO., 86 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK CiT 



•* ’ s’ t “• - • 


>• 


4 

'fd 


I 


\ ■* ' 

. / 


. >, > ' V*-' , V .1 








/ , : *' K* . 

' u * 

« • ,' * • I r 

‘7 ' 




■:>i ( ■ '. V' 


■rv '- ..fty: 



M " . * • • 


f 




(. - - <v T ; 




■7 ' " 

. . _ t -r /. V.i. ^•.\ . J/ - 

• ' t-M' • ' . « - *•■- 


6s 


#• 

1 1 


i 


.t •'>■ 


.» L ■• 




• •* * I 


\ .* 


*. . 


' ■ I 




V .> 


I 


I 

> 


BRr: lii- '•• k ' ' * V 


F 

J 

'‘mr 


' • . s*' 
•■ »*■ * 


»»l 

, V 


y 


Hri- f'V- V'-y 

Hi • ■ ; . ^ ■ <• 

Ht'' 

^ , ^. . - » I .' V ** *''•■'’'*■ t A Ir 

•• • . ' • •.*>]»• 


,Ar 


\ , 

.i . r 


t , 


>V‘^’ 


- . •.•;v 




■« ». 




ft •■I\*i3' *1 ' ■ JT -'«• I k 

* > ILtM •* - < • \ i ‘ ^ . • t 

Jlk-tf.W ■ r - 7 , - }■ " J- ■ . 

yi': ■'■■■ V -'■ '•■■-•^ '■ '• 


. -.Xv 

^ « I 




u 


f » 








vV' 

. tV .» tP<.' 
r- > -‘'*■^- 


'* ■ •“ ^ ■ 

^ .* ♦ ry 

, ^ ^ . iiA , . -*lu #v ^ 

■V . ■* . 


».• ' 


I 


- '* / »■• n^f'* ••' k ■*-•:• 1 ^.* ■• .y ■# y* « 

““• > '%-^'. j:r. ■■ ‘- ,'j ■ . f ' ' : - ‘ ■ ‘s!- 

^ > - , • ' ; k**- * ' u. ‘ *r‘ .• • • rM 

'■■4 ••' - /.y'r. . :,' '■ *«•’ .. '• 




. -i -.f . . • 


>, 


k \ ; 


' n 


i “ » 





' ”, -'rV ^ ' 


''i ^ 


— * • ift ’ — . 

k- '• 

- s . . r 


' (L . I-' 







:* ‘ 


I* ' • ' ^ M • ^'. -.>«’vV ‘ H • '•■fyV '■ 'U* 


* iTJ 


>/ 

»• 


. .J • ' ' >»'*'-'i ** t, .' 

' • r ’VI*'" 

'7<' ^• 



■ ‘ ’ w ■' V 

. ’ •* ‘ ■ '■ '^ ' - ' ' 

• ^ < *yU‘i 

. % . '*» .\ •. , • 

,• ’ .' y- . . . 

y- ■' h - •’ 


O' ^ , 
# » < 




~^, ■ :• ^ V ‘ Ik '•^^*» » ; ■ 


> • 

' f 


I' ■ 


• 7 ■'■'"^4 




*' * 


* k 


V y> 


• ,k vrvAj* 

> • • » « . 2 ^ . • • • . ♦ 


. \ 


■ il'* >• ■ ■ • >, ■• 
k-, -t-# 

. ;'■ . n' : 

. ■' r y-. , l-^v. • , 

wi 


V I -v •, ^ ' 


* iA> 

- ..J< . T 


■ \. 


' ■ s" *''?*V •: 



4rnmSk > 




• 1 ! 


■ r 


A 


■ .k .•k''' 
* » 






- 7 . * 


t s 


£*• /p'Ji’r’U' 


I ■ 


. ' ■ I , ^ 


-.^ - • 






'V^.. 


fC. . 




' ' • V 

■ *■ «Wi' ’*• 


■ 0 , t I • 

' > “ A 

" ■ . ' k ^ ,• ■ 


■ ■ ‘?» V. >V ‘ * 

k < * ^ .* • f- A 


y* ' i 


, v. • . 


v;. 


' • ( 

« 


;-e- 


< ■/ ■ 




sn 


■> 

, ’k‘ , 

v» > ’ 

'.» •* 


f ''% 


■ ' i-'*"’'' ■?> 

rV->r\' t ’■ - 

• • i " . • . 


*• r 


I I 




.* ■ 


< 

-■< 


• < 
\ 


> « 


« 

,1 


. • 


r\ ,-\A ■ ' , 

■ ^v‘ ..•>* 

I > • 


> ' 


iV' •' . '. ■ i ’T • , 

-. f *.• ■ *, ’ . r • . '■> 

■ ■■ ■■ ^ ", ’ 
, • .!^.L . ■ ■;■ • 


. .':V-v 

’ A 1 W 9k * 


■' . v 

p 


y. 




• V .'■ 

'•» 'i 




<.v» . 


I •\ 


, ... .Vi ‘ ' 

. ' » k ■' V ^ 

* '- • - • * - » ' W 


f.. 

f ^ . 




. • 

> * V‘ 

y'. , 

. ✓ 

’ *< 

'. */♦ 

• 

« 

« 

,: ;■: • ; •' 

% 


4 

\ 


* 1 

. »■ 

-f - , 

, * , , 



.‘-J 


y . 


V 

. < 


./ 


I 


♦ . 


-•T 
, % 




'V 

’^■>'^7 ;■ "■'. ' ; ":'y\ 


; 



V* Vp •>. ^ ' ' >; *-<■ I /T • ■ ’ » * • 


jf '-., ^ •■‘.•Is i . ^ • • * '.'^C - ■ • ';•' . • 

■ .w* ' ' »' '^'.'* ^ ’* - '* ' * ’*' ''^»^‘ * . ■ ■' w s 

'''A.. ;. ■■'- 'S'- ^ 


^ • 

. ‘X' 

..? ‘ 


( 


<h 


' • * /I '••;•'• ■ » , * . I ■ . 1^. . , -, 

*rA^*s '' ■ ■ '.; V ,, .^ •■ V. •*', >■ V*." *'• ^ • '. - 

fc' '"’"v, ,;• s'- ■ J ^ ^ * ■'' V i' , - .,' :- / '■ • ■■ ^ 

, ',. ■■ ^ V-;' ■ --'i • 

'W “A . ’S- ■ '■• ■ ■' ■' .S , ►.•/~.,V' 

i^asf^ht (V? c. ' tv V. ' • ■*• . s, ■ , , . 

‘ 5 i-; T-.V. • . . •- , . V. ‘ . 


✓ * 


r' 

U 

• » 

v. « 


4 


V* 

, -t 



• I ' 1 ’• s * * 

V .fv. » • '•^1 


» f 


^2^3' ', :■ v f^,^-; :». ;' .V ■-. ^ !y s-s'-. ' ' ' i' 




^7% 

l.» r ' '. 


/ ^ -‘i* 

4 

« « • 

^ ? ’ ;* 

' • 

> ^ 

>• 

• 

♦ * J 

■j* 

>,. f • i • 

4 

/ . 

• • 1 

■' ,. / 

< i / *'. ; ‘ 

. r . 1 , » . 

s 


’ . .- •» 

*‘^K ,- 


•S . . 


y ^ 


/, . 


S 


1 ♦ ■#* 

' i 


•si - I 


i r ' . A ^ i- ■ * ' ' ■ ' '" V « "^ ' 

Iggff ^, v,< , y/t 5^ i* ' J^ ' ^ i - » ■ - i’ - • 

r>> y'-. r •- ^ ,., : 




h 


I i 






I ' 




. ^ ' 

'• / 


v' V 


< 

« » 


» 


. H 

« 


»* ’* V ’4 

/ 

■*« . 

4 






«. » 




'•i ,♦ '»<' ■' 

*1 . \ - 






• * * 


S,' ' *-,■ 

^ f 



#;c 


’ .» 

i< 


I 



Bi9n 


I « 


y.jjHvoy- - •'■>''. 

'/-' *1 ;/ . \ vv-^i y -■■ ■' *' 



.A 


’ ‘* 7 w / 

.V ' < . . ^ k’ 





. i. » / / 




**• • 

Vi 


•■*V 


• . 



® . * 7. y ’iiSs 


> * ' » • . ■ ■ . ..r, * »■•-'. s* - • , . . ’ • » -\t ^ * 

''. ^ jT-* ' ' -/ ' '. :>' '■•' ^ • • ,'■ . ■ , • > 

!i' ' '■ '■ : '" Sla'v' >• 




•■’•IS.' f wV-'.f -7 







V’. •' 




: !’ • 
♦ • 


■■■■>, • ,• :v ■ j' ■ 

• ' .*• t * , -ju js 

- ' ' ■■f'r > 



■■.'V --V • : Vw 

-.irf 

" ^''-a 


w 


^%vf ,y 






'f‘> 


-. I 


\ »* 1 ’ 



- « • ' * 1 ./ V'. ’ 

.1* ’*>» u 

# * A * ■^ * ' 

•• • , M 

•* ^•'- / ■ • vTjI 

' ',-*>' - «''C»V ■ I ' * > ■ 




^■1 m MX 

,y r- * i" * ' >* V ■ 1 , ,, oM^H 

i ' o.. ’*. ’^ ^ ^ • I »”* 'fti ; « 


u* iVfiL- ftf^ •' ‘ , . * y . 'ilHtfii ' ' »• '1 -Tn ''i Zi^y 

» «.«w t ^xJ* ,%]■ • <« Alk^ f . ^ . 'w-JJtfl 

■11 ' .•/'• S'.- - ■■'•■" , V »•','}■ ■ '■ 

wh\ • . '• '■■ '.' ./-> ' ‘^ 7 - vi**" 

* • * 











■'’ ■ -i : ■ ’ ':" ;... 

1 ' ; . - . - \r .iAV.-,, 


J. ' 

•k. 

1 


1^: 



m 


-iW 


VI . t. 


I > ■'' <rl ^ } 




t -. X 

* 


. f ■ 


c , 


. Utt nF 

»K- ‘ , 

T’ * 


' ;i *• k - 

. M ■ ' . ^ v’j * *' ■' • ii ‘- 

. . V'iV ' > S‘ ‘ ^ J ' i ‘' • - • 

. *Sv ,.L 7 * s’ : • -iiW 


>V *' 

t 


\ A 








4 ) 


J . 


■ 


/ir ' 


^ ■- 

Na. .S. 


-.•';;rA: 

' •V » • 


* ; • 


> « » 


. V 




rf • * ' 

> • 


' X • M ' 

■ ■ iwN' . ■ • *'' 


^ v"'V‘ 

- ■ ^V:-, j 


t • V 


'‘• I » ■ • 

♦nmV * ’ I • < 

J - ' ^ ' 

r - 

*■’ . * 


i 


I 


« ' . 


. H- 


J 


L ’ 


1 

rl 


, ' '-W-.w,' V J} ' 

-' » . »' • ' ' '\ ' >.*. .■■■.•-'• 'S' y ^ ‘I * ' ' 


B. » * ‘ ^ ! 

>'t •'■ 




' •*:* '{■ • 

^ >. 

/» 

’V : 

\ 

fml 











% I , i; ^ I ▼ » ' 

i I \ ^ f^ * 


.TVflJI , I 

Sit ' * .W^Br')vV^ 14 H *■ V ' '% ^ •. ♦a ' 

./4^JIW;|MS - -.tfwMi. ' V-- V. 

■<- ... .■.' r; .■■'‘■H'WA'f ■'., 

* • . • 1 a 4 

. • I i ►f •< ' V# ^ 


. V 
> 




M: 







lA 


• • # T% 


• • • .>* < 


rr‘ 

VI 




. I 


/• 


'T 

? 


-‘■J ' ;• • 

'V-. /:■-.' :' 


4 ' I 








vA ■ '' 

iC 


^ i*V ‘ ♦, I 

■' ' ’ 

t . N '• t ‘v. •' ••■ 

• * ' , ,t *» ' • . 

■■ ■ ■; ••' V. V,;: ; ij:' . 

. • (S.- .v>*/ ^■^ 

•i» 


m 




' ' ' '' .' 

4,. .: 

' '■ ■ ■'V-iv'i.;;->-''^ ■'. ■ 

■■ . -;■ ■■‘iS-v .,• ..i'-,; ' /■ 

\ . - , I '.. T,. •. '/ v^ — * ' -f * 

toS-::«|i: ..aa,-:. ■ 


.V 




i 

V 

? 


V--U ' 

- ,^S. 


# », 


,.,.r^ 

» 

:'^ ' 

' . 

r 

1 * '* • w 


' 'U ■ 

* , 

«4 

. • A 

''r^ 

'P, '" 

# « 

1 

: - ‘.1 

. '-‘J 

\ ' 


< 


1 • 



/■,.1 


f/ 




• . . • ■ ' . V 

L.' ■ '• •.♦. *'. '•’7/; . ' V ' 

*' . ' i. ^ t ‘ ^ ’ 

' v.V . . 

• t • I ' V ■ ■ V * ' . A' if 1 . 

, ^ j ^ f ■ •' ’■« '■ * • 

-vm' 

' < - .' ' L ^ I • 

, 


r « 


W 

0 “ t 


t 





« ’ > 


•)r 


V 

* ■ ' 


A •‘■ 




r .^5 • 


r'* 


^ -• • 


* ' 


•« 

t 


VV 

ri ■ 

t 





' --w ‘/iVs' ,'V^’' . >*. Va/ 

• '•■ . '■■ - •" ■'■ •' 

* ‘ V .1 • . 

. . - . ‘•#A. . -■ ‘ I'-'- , - > ... 


r' 


/ 


'.’in 


r ' 


. ‘ ) 






', . y . 

r '* 

I V V • 


1 

<■ '-rf 


♦ ^ 





‘.S ' 


; '., 'tf 


,v 


\ 

f 


.i , * ' 

■ •' • ■ ,’7 ' -1 ' ■'■ ' ■ 

• , / - » ’i/ w ■ 


'U; ■' 



